Believe in the Stars
by Very
Summary: Mirkwood is under threat from the dark forces of Sauron in his quest for power. A web of lies, deceit, love, hate and trust wraps itself around the Halls of Thranduil, ensnaring one unlucky Prince in a cloud not even Legolas's bright eyes can penetrate.
1. Traitors

Title: Believe in the Stars  
  
Summery: Mirkwood is under threat from the dark forces of Sauron, and several other creatures in Middle Earth that have been persuaded to join him in his quest for power. A web of lies, deceit, love, hate and trust wraps itself around the Halls of Thranduil, ensnaring one unlucky prince in the creeping darkness. ( A bit AU, but pretty much true to Tolkien - or at least I think so )  
  
Category: Romance and Angst. ( Yes, everyone, this *is* a Romance. You've been properly warned, but I promise you, this is not your gushy 'ohmygod ohmygod I'm so beautiful, everyone wants to marry me, Legolas dies of grief because I don't love him' romance...this is your basic Middle Earthen Romance full of treachery, deceit, and of course, stars. :)  
  
Rating: Currently PG-13, but rating could go up.  
  
Author: SteLLa  
  
Disclaimer: Middle Earth and all it's devices and creations belong to J.R. Tolkien, not me. The plot is mine and some of the original characters, but everything else belongs to J.R. Tolkien, so don't sue me. :)  
  
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Bright blue eyes peered out from the foliage, searching the surrounding trees with a practiced gaze. Sharp eyes listened intently for any hint of his prey, and a heart pounded beneath finely toned chest. Tightly clenched hands slowly reached behind a halo of golden locks to finger a beautifully made bow, and his eyes narrowed intently.  
  
Legolas Greenleaf was on the hunt.  
  
Not for deer, as he was want to do, or for Orc even, as sometimes the foul creatures would wander into the quickly darkening forest of Mirkwood, his home, and he would go on patrol to ensure they met a timely demise. However, this time he was hunting something much worse, much more despicable, much more disgusting...much more foul.  
  
A spy.  
  
How an elf could ever turn against it's own kin, it's own kind was a concept completely foreign to the elven prince. Raised as Prince Royal in the renowned courts of his father, Thranduil King of Mirkwood, loyalty, duty and honor were household words, drilled into the young Prince's head since he was a young elfling. How anyone could betray their people to support Sauron was so...vile that it brought a bitter taste to his mouth.  
  
But despite the misgivings and disgust of the Royal Family on the subject of backstabbers and spies, it was not an uncommon thing. Sauron's power was returning - anyone who wished to deny this was a fool. The Dark Lord's power to encourage treachery and deceit was great, and far too many tiny elven communities had fallen into Sauron's hands.  
  
For the most disturbing piece of news that came with Sauron's return was it's primary location. In the forests of Mirkwood, in its most Southern depths, shadows took form and claimed lives, and evil began to flourish. Mirkwood had become a breeding ground of malevolence.  
  
Hints that spies would soon be placed in Mirkwood's courts were given by Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. It appeared that the gift of foresight had once again blessed the Half Elf, and he had willingly shared his knowledge.  
  
Sauron had decided to seize all of Mirkwood and was using his well-placed spies to draw the noose tighter around the palace's throat.  
  
But Legolas was determined to stop it. Which was why he was paused now, his hands almost invisible to the untrained eye as he notched his bow. Any minute now...  
  
Suddenly, he felt his sense go on high alert. Something was coming.  
  
He closed his eyes softly, and let his soul fly up to the trees, that he may learn their secrets and see what they saw. Listening to their whispering song, they warned him..  
  
'Beware of the treachery of strangers...beware of the lies of evil...traitors approach...'  
  
Being of elven kind, he had the ability to converse with trees and now he thanked them feverently for their warning and opened one eye and aimed.  
  
A second later, a cloaked mystery stepped into the clearing.  
  
Legolas took a deep breath, steadied his hand, acting in the name of Mirkwood and his father, and let his arrow fly. 


	2. Revealed

Kazlitt: That may be your opinion, but I beg to differ, lol. I think it was a perfect place to leave off because of the load of questions it presents. Did he hit it? What *is* it? Did it see or feel the arrow coming? Does *it* attack *him*? See what I mean, lol.  
  
Alyde11 and Lilena, thanks for the reviews! LoL and yes - finally a Legomance.  
  
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The arrow soared true through the air, but the cloaked stranger, alerted to it's presence by the slight whisper of the blade as it hurried through the air, turned and stared at the soaring weapon on it's way to claim it's life. It spun dramatically, cloak flapping out behind it, and the arrow landed with a thud in the nearest tree, its shaft protruding mockingly. Without blinking an eye, the stranger turned and fled, its black cloak billowing behind it, it's feet carrying it quickly around the trees and shrubs of the thick forest.  
  
Cursing softly under his breath, Legolas took a step further into the clearing, his face contorted with fury and concentration. His eyes narrowed and he muttered under his breath, "Nadorhuan*" as he notched another arrow an aimed straight for the stranger's head. However, despite his excellence at archery, his misjudged the distance the stranger managed to put between them so fast, and the arrow arched in its flight. However, it was still effective, and with a muffled cry, the stranger stumbled as the arrow pierced her left leg.  
  
Satisfied, Legolas smirked as the spy writhed in pain on the forest floor and carefully slung his bow over his shoulder before pulling out his knives. The weak light shining in the early morning caught the blade and it gleamed dangerously as his face hardened and he approached the two-timing stranger.  
  
His face was an impassive mask as he roughly grabbed its shoulder, pushing it to it's knees with a scowl. Reaching out, he roughly pushed the cloak aside so he could look at the betrayer's face. It fell in graceful flows around its face before he raised his eyes to stare.  
  
Furiously defiant and disappointed eyes glared dangerously at him. They were startling green, catching and melting with the colors of the forest surrounding them, and with a start, Legolas realized the traitor was a she.  
  
There was a smudge of dirt under her right eye from when she had fallen, but she had an ethereal beauty that marked her clearly as an elf. Delicate features contrasted sharply with the plain fury in her face, framed by waves of wild black locks of hair. Mentally, he shook himself and snarled at her, "Who are you? Where are you going?"  
  
With his knife poised at her throat, sudden bravery fled from her face, but her fury did not. "My name is my own business, as is my destination. Who are *you*, to shoot at me so when I did you no wrong?" she spat at him and Legolas scowled.  
  
"You'll watch your tongue when you address the Prince of Mirkwood," he warned dangerously, his eyes gleaming. "These woods are my father's realm and when I ask questions, answers are demanded."  
  
"I'll watch my tongue when the Prince of Mirkwood watches his," she hissed furiously. "And when he explains his reasoning behind shooting an innocent girl as she makes her way through the forest."  
  
He snorted and jerked her to her feet, ignoring her wince of pain as weight landed on her injured leg. "Innocent?" he mocked, spinning her around and binding her hands with the ropes he kept around his waist. "I would hardly call a traitor, *innocent*."  
  
Had he been watching her face, he would have seen her pale, but he was busy with tying her hands so she couldn't escape. She regained her control in a few seconds, though a worried look entered her eyes. "I am no traitor," she claimed determinedly. "I am a traveler, who has heard of the hospitality of Thranduil King's halls and I was hoping to stop there for the night."  
  
"I'm sorry, my lady," he taunted mockingly, his voice dripping with disgust and sarcasm. This girl was a liar on many accounts. "But if you're looking for hospitality, I suggest you go to Rivendell."  
  
She jerked her arms away from him. "Excellent idea. Release me and I'll be on my way," she snapped.  
  
He shook his head. "I don't think so."  
  
She bit her lip frustrated and scowled. This certainly was a fly in the ointment, she thought wryly, trying to keep her spirits up and her mind quick.  
  
Her father would be so disappointed in her - caught before she could even launch her mission. Before she had been sent on her task, her 'duty' as he called it, he had told her one thing.  
  
"Do not fail me." These words echoed throughout her head now and unconsciously she winced as she thought of her father's reaction to the news.  
  
But hope was not lost yet, she thought resolutely. So what if her leg was bleeding profusely and a sharp pain was spreading up through her thigh, her hands were tied and her intended victim, the Prince of Mirkwood, was the cause of it.  
  
You have to work with what your given, she reminded herself grimly before she heard herself asking, "Where're you taking me?" as he suddenly tugged violently on her wrists.  
  
"Back to camp," he answered shortly. "I'll tend to your leg and then you are answering any question I feel the need to ask."  
  
"And if I refuse?" She countered her voice bold with false bravado.  
  
He shot her a withering nasty look that turned her bravery to cold fear.  
  
"You won't."  
  
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Translations - Nadorhuan - Cowardly Dog 


	3. Manipulated

Legolas regarded the girl with narrowed eyes. Her hands were bound tightly behind her back, and then looped around a large willow tree. The rest of his camp, a small group of his closest friends, who also happened to be the best archers in the realm, bustled up around them. Their arrival had been excitedly noted, but, trained warriors as they were, did not dwell on success, they wondered how they could have perfected it. They left the questioning of the captive to the Prince and prepared camp for the night.  
  
The fair elf's face was etched with impatience and annoyance and he again answered in a threatening voice, "What is your name?"  
  
The impertinent girl studied him mildly. This was about the forth time he had asked that same question, and after a few, 'No comment's,' she had decided silence was the best answer. And it was working.  
  
The only thing that began to frighten her was the growing fury in his eyes. Her original mission had been to befriend the royal family until she learned all of the palace's secrets - now it was to survive and return back to her father so another plan could be made, and she couldn't very well do that if the one person she needed dead held her life in his hands.  
  
"Dinaer*." She answered mockingly and his face contorted in anger. Standing up violently and turning away, pushing a hand through his hair, he scowled angrily. "Do you think this is a joke?" he hissed furiously at her, and unconsciously, her eyes latched on the sharp elven blade at his waist. His eyes followed her gaze and a crooked grin lit his handsome features.  
  
"Would you like to see it?"  
  
She raised her chin defiantly, and cast her eyes away, but he saw the fear there and decided instantly to use it to his advantage. He drew the long knife from its sheath and took a step closer to her. Rubbing his thumb up and down the blade, the fading light reflected off the razor-sharp metal. He raised the sharp edge to her lifted chin, trailing it down to the creamy skin of her neck. Pressing the dull side of the knife against her chin, his eyes watched the vein in her neck increase it's tempo and her face flush. Her eyes narrowed with pure hatred and his voice was silkily calm as he asked once more. "You're *true* name?"  
  
She gulped but answered quietly, and she tried to mask the quaver in her voice with indifference as she spat at him, "Seasa."  
  
He forced a smirk, the sudden fear in her eyes bothering him. "Good, good. Now at least we're getting somewhere."  
  
He leaned back and removed the cold steel from her neck and she slowly let out a sigh of relief, but hissed at him, "There's no where to go, 'Ksher*. I told you before, I am but a traveler who has been wrongfully sidetracked."  
  
Legolas's eyes narrowed at the insult, but he continued to study her furiously. "Where are you coming from?" he ventured and her mind raced quickly. "One of the elven villages within the forest."  
  
"Which one?"  
  
She couldn't tell him the true name of her village - he'd recognize it as one that was aiding the Dark Lord. Where there any small villages that had remained adamant? She wondered desperately, praying there were. With a silent prayer, though she figured Illuvator didn't answer prayers of traitors, she took a guess. "Silmataurea," she told him firmly and his eyebrows rose. "Did you forget the name of your village? You hesitated," he accused immediately and just as quickly, she shook her head and answered mockingly. "No, I wasn't sure you would be aware of the village - it is small and a *Prince* such as yourself, doubtlessly does not mingle with such commoners."  
  
"I warned you before to watch your tongue and this is the last time I let such irreverent comments slide," he said icily.  
  
Literally biting her tongue, she shook her head helplessly and leaned back against the tree. "I don't know what you want me to tell you," she said finally. "I don't know who you think I am, a spy or whatever, but I'm not," she lied flawlessly.  
  
"Who is your father?" Legolas persisted, knowing truly in his heart that this girl was lying, though there were no outward signs of it. He was determined to catch her in a lie, and would ask her all the questions he could think of until he did.  
  
Now this was a tough one. Her father..her father..if she spoke his true name, Legolas would know him instantly and would probably order her execution and display her head as a trophy. Pleasant thought.  
  
"He's dead," Seasa answered finally, not really knowing what she was saying, just glad that there would be an excuse for her hesitation.  
  
Legolas's eyes narrowed but some of the suspicion was replaced by a mysterious carefully guarded emotion; he pressed on. "Your mother?"  
  
He wouldn't know her mother anyway, she reasoned but she was already to far gone to go back now. "She shares my father's fate," she answered shortly and Legolas, studying her for a long, tense moment, finally nodded. "I'm sorry," he replied curtly, but his tense voice didn't hide the empathy in his eyes and Seasa was encouraged.  
  
Perhaps he was more easily manipulated than it seemed.  
  
-------------------------- Dinaer - Silent One 'Ksher - Evil One 


	4. Trickery

Seasa's eyes jerked open abruptly, and she blinked several times as the sudden light sent piercing pain through her skull. Her eyes darted around the campsite, moving over the warriors who were packed and ready to move out, coming to land on a tall figure before her.  
  
She squinted up at him. "Where am I?"  
  
Legolas snorted, reaching down and swiftly undoing her bindings. He jerked her to her feet without answering her questions, pushing her ahead of him towards a herd of unbridled horses waiting restlessly at the edge of camp. "Where do you think you are?"  
  
Suddenly, the memories of yesterday came flooding back to Seasa, and she barely stifled her groan. "Dammit."  
  
Legolas chuckled without amusement. "That's what I thought."  
  
"Where are we going then? Am I to be released?" She asked determinedly, halting at the side of one of the horses, a splendid silver mouth with wide intelligent eyes.  
  
Legolas scowled. "No. We are returning home to the Palace. The warriors have scouted the rest of the lands and found you to be the only spy."  
  
"You were all sent out here for me?" Seasa asked, the tiniest tint of wonder seeping into her voice. Legolas frowned. "Don't flatter yourself. You are not what we were expecting."  
  
"What *were* you expecting?"  
  
Legolas frowned. "I do not know. But certainly not a lone, defenseless girl."  
  
Seasa seized the opportunity. "I did not know Mirkwood warriors were so uneducated, sir." She answered patronizingly, and his gaze caught hers.  
  
"What?"  
  
"If you had shown more intelligence, you would have realized the reason that I am not what you are expecting is simply because I am not *who* you are expecting."  
  
Legolas's brow furrowed and he snapped, "Speak not in riddles, my patience with you grows thin. What are you trying to say?"  
  
Seasa sighed and with exaggerated poise, answered calmly. Her mind was racing trying to figure out a way for her to either a) be released, or b) delay the trip with enough time that she may find some way to weasel her way into the cold heart of the Prince of Mirkwood and let him protect her. "I am not *who* you are expecting," she repeated firmly. "You are expecting a spy and a traitor, whereas I am only a girl. You said yourself that I am lone and defenseless, what threat could I poise to the mighty house of Mirkwood?"  
  
Legolas frowned, and reaching over, grabbed her by her waist and threw her astride the horse. She landed with a graceful 'oof', her hair falling into her eyes as he whispered mockingly to her. "The poisoned fangs of the serpent have brought down many a great steed, and yet, the horse may kill it with but a stomp of his foot. Thus are you a danger to even the mighty house of Mirkwood, for there is nothing in you but poisonous lies."  
  
Seasa stared at him, her eyes wide and yet unreadable. He had thwarted her attempts yet again.  
  
"Nothing to say to that, my lady?" he asked mockingly as he swung on gracefully behind her. She scowled. "Nothing you would like to hear."  
  
He chuckled again. "Try me."  
  
"I'd rather not."  
  
Legolas ignored her answer for once, raising a hand to the warriors on either side of him. Two flanked him, two moved ahead, and two more fell into single file behind him.  
  
Their bodies moved together with the strides of the horse, Seasa's posture tense and upright. A bird let out a shrill cry, and with a sigh, Seasa allowed herself to glance around the woods.  
  
She had never been to this part of the forest before, had only lived in her little village, had never truly left the borders. The trees here were lighter somehow, freer, and darkness held less weight in these parts. Not like her own village, where black shadows and dark riders wandered freely..  
  
She shook her head firmly. She would not think of it. She would focus only on her job, her mission, her role in the fight...  
  
But Legolas noticed the new stiffness in her back, the way her eyes strayed to the forest floor and stayed there, despite the singing of the birds and the chirping of the forest animals.  
  
"What is it?" He asked, unsure if he had the right to know, yet curious.  
  
She shrugged. "Nothing, my lord."  
  
Legolas's eyes widened slightly. 'My lord'? The fiery captive he had cornered yesterday would have rather been beaten and thrown to the wolves before calling him her lord.  
  
But he said nothing, just tucked the piece of information away in his mind to be analyze later. 'My lord'?!  
  
Suddenly, Seasa raised her eyes determinedly, and they shined a little brighter. She had an idea.  
  
The sound of running water reached her ears, and she turned around in the saddle to search for the source. Instead, however, she found herself face to face with the baffled Prince of Mirkwood.  
  
"Yes?" he asked dryly, their faces now inches apart as she twisted her torso around. To her horror, a slight flush found its way up her cheeks at being so close to him, and she shook her head slightly. "Water," she managed to stutter before regaining her composer. "Is there any nearby?"  
  
Legolas inclined his head, in a manner that had more meaning as a 'Why?' rather then a 'Yes."  
  
"It's just...well, if it isn't too much trouble...I'd like too...well...I need my privacy!" she blurted out, and after much furrowing of the brow, Legolas nodded in understand. "Ah." He said finally. "Well then."  
  
"Esta simone! Rest here! " He called out after a moment to the leaders of the company, who immediately halted and turned to look at him with practiced ease. "We need to stop for a moment," he announced reluctantly, and one of the captains, Sindatil, glanced up impatiently. "No disrespect in anyway, my Prince," he began politely, and Legolas nodded his pardon. "But the sun rides high as it is and we do not wish to be trapped in the center of the forest as night takes its hold. We need to keep moving. The shadows are darker and hold more danger of late. It would be in our best interests to be closer to Thranduil King's halls by nightfall."  
  
Legolas nodded in understanding. "This I know, Sindatil, but we shall not rest long. The captive has needs to attends to--" Seasa blushed furiously, but kept her eyes raised to stare at the now understanding eyes of the elves. "--and I cannot deny them to her. We shall not stop long." Turning to Seasa, he added, "Alright, you've gotten your wish. Go, there,--" he pointed to bushes several feet away,--" and we shall keep watch." When she did not move, he added, "Hurry now!"  
  
Reluctantly, with the eye of every male in the camp on her, she swung off the horse, and disappeared into the bushes. The undergrowth, however, was not very high, and she frowned. Standing up, she could look straight into the eyes of several of the warriors, including the Prince, as they were high up, astride their mounts. She clucked her tongue disappointedly.  
  
"Is this how you treat a captive, submitting her to ridicule? I thank you to dismount off of those horses and point your wandering eyes in another direction!"  
  
With a sigh, but a nod, Legolas gave the order. "Dismount, men." He commanded wearily, and every single one of the men stood by their untacked mount.  
  
Suddenly, Seasa let out a piercing shriek. "Ai!"  
  
"What is it?" Legolas asked immediately, his bow notched in an instant, with hands quicker then the eye could see. Several of his men followed suit.  
  
"Ai, Ai!" Seasa continued to scream. "Ai!"  
  
Legolas lowered his bow, his face etched into a mask of confusion. "Seasa?"  
  
"lhûg! Snake!" She finally managed and with a shout of alarm, Legolas and two other elves, including Sindatil, rushed into the undergrowth. "Where, where? I do not see it!" Sindatil cried anxiously, his knife out. Legolas kept his bow pointed low towards the ground, and suddenly stirred in the clump of leaves closet to Seasa's foot. With a shout, she raced out of the clump of bushes, back towards the horses. Several warriors asked her what was wrong, but she only repeated, "Lhûg, Lhûg!"  
  
No one noticed as she slipped back into the trees, back towards the direction she had come. No one noticed as she slowly hid into the shadows, her slow steps taking her further and further away from the elves. She giggled soundlessly to herself, but when she was far enough away that their arrows couldn't reach her, yet she could still see them, she turn and ran, as fast as she possibly could. 


	5. Necklace

Legolas emerged from the clearing, his face grim, moments later. "Did you kill it, my lord?" one of the young warriors asked apprehensively, but Legolas shook his head, his mouth pressed into a firm line.  
  
"Nay," he answered shortly in displeasure. "There was nothing there."  
  
"But the captive--"  
  
Legolas shout him a quick, pointed look and the words died on his lips. The wind fluttered through the trees, as Legolas glanced around. "Where is she?"  
  
Sindatil glanced up. "Where is who, my lord?"  
  
Legolas took a breath, slow and steady to cool his rising temper. "The girl, where is the girl? The captive?"  
  
Sindatil glanced around, but he too, did not see any trace of her. "She was just here, my lord."  
  
Legolas bit his lip in frustration and hissed, "I do not care where she *was*, Sindatil, I want to know where she is." No one answered him.  
  
"She has disappeared, my lord. She ran out of the undergrowth because of the lhug, but we did not watch her because we were so intent on killing the serpent."  
  
Legolas closed his eyes slowly and raised a hand to his throbbing temple. "Do you mean to tell me she has escaped?"  
  
Sindtail glanced down to the ground, and then raised his eyes dutifully. "I suppose so, my lord."  
  
"You suppose?"  
  
"Yes, my lord. She has escaped."  
  
Legolas whirled around, reaching roughly for his mount, hopping onto it with such speed and grace that several mouths dropped open. "Find her," he spat, disgusted that the mighty warriors of Mirkwood had been duped by a young, treacherous female. "We cannot go back without her."  
  
"Yes, my lord." Sindatil immediately turned to the elves surrounding him and gave hushed, whispered instructions and soon the party had broken up and rushed into the wood.  
  
Legolas waited for Sindatil to give the orders before his friend caught up with him, and together they headed into the forest. Awkward silence passed before Legolas finally spoke. "I'm sorry for my shortness, Sindatil. It just riles my temper that Mirkwood warriors, tried and true, were so easily tricked - myself, among them."  
  
Sindatil nodded understandingly, but relief was evident in his face that Legolas was not holding him alone responsible. "Understandable, my lord. But fear not, she cannot have gone far and we will find her."  
  
Legolas nodded. "Yes, I don't doubt that we will." He agreed softly.  
  
His eyes darted down to the path, his eyes racking over leaves and through the undergrowth. Tiny, light footsteps made their way through a mossy area, and he smiled slightly. This would be easier then he expected.  
  
----------  
  
Seasa let out a sigh of frustration. She had worked her way into a dead end - in front, to the sides, and even slightly in back of her thick thorn bushes rose up and blocked her path. She had no choice but to double back and go around - precious minutes that would be lost.  
  
Suddenly, her elven earing picked up several voices. They sounded like elves, though she could tell from the high-pitched squeak that it wasn't Legolas, she knew they were from the scouting party that had been holding her captive. Daring a peek behind her, she saw they were still a good distance off, but closing fast. If she turned back around to avoid the nettle of thorns, she would walk directly into them. She had no choice but to push her way through.  
  
She gritted her teeth firmly and as quietly as she could, threw herself into the bushes. Thorns caught and dragged on her flesh, ripping her dress and cloak. Several long braches reached out and yanked at her neck as she struggle through, but soon, she had made it through the thick underbrush.  
  
She paused, breathing heavily, and dropped to her knees for a moment. Her arms were bleeding freely and her neck and back had also come out the worse of the ordeal. But her cloak and dress covered the rest of her body, so the material had taken the beating instead. Long strips of black cloak, and light sea green material from her dress were caught tangled up in the thorns, but she could do nothing about that. Straightening up and brushing herself off, she frowned as the voices became louder, and more excited as they tracked her footsteps. Without looking back, she began to run.  
  
---------  
  
Legolas and Sindatil followed the footsteps obediently, but they soon met up with three other elves, all of which had paused at a large thorn bush. The bush spread around the area, meeting up and mingling with others until it was almost impossible to go through, and time wasting to go around. Legolas frowned.  
  
"What is the delay?"  
  
One of the elves stood up proudly and nodded in respect. "Forgive us, my lord. But her tracks seem to indicate that she has pushed her way through the thorns, but that seems highly unlikely."  
  
Legolas's eyes narrowed as he sighed, his eyes racking over the bushes in question.  
  
"What is that?" he asked curiously, pointing to several long strips of clothing, black and green.  
  
One of the elves frowned, and delicately reached in and plucked it from the prickly thorns grasp. "It is cloth, my lord." He answered upon closer inspection. "From the captive's cloak, no doubt."  
  
Legolas nodded absentmindedly, his eyes still racking the bush. His eyes zeroed in on something, and his mouth fell open slightly. He dismounted quickly, and made his way over, leaning in carefully and with his finger tips, picking it up.  
  
In his hand, he held a necklace. It was not fancy, or ornate, nothing he was used to seeing in the palace, anyway. It consisted on a single, emerald ribbon, torn at one end. He held it up to the light. From the ribbon, dangled a single, glass star. The sunlight hit the charm fiercely, and the world around them burst into color as the beams streaked through the tiny star.  
  
"What is it, my lord?" Sindatil asked quietly.  
  
Legolas frowned in thought. "A necklace," he answered finally. "Belonging to our captive." He glanced at the thorns, and then at back at the slightly torn ribbon. "It must have been torn from her neck as she made her way through the undergrowth."  
  
No one said anything for a moment, then suddenly, someone exclaimed, "Ai!"  
  
Legolas glanced up sharply, recoiling his hand and swiftly emptying the necklace into his vest pocket. "what is it?"  
  
One of his elves had cried out, and now, backed swiftly away from the menacing looking plant. His palm was bleeding.  
  
"Those are no ordinary thorns, my lord." He said after a moment, his voice quivering a little. "They are poisonous."  
  
Legolas brow raised. "Poisonous?" he questioned. "What do you mean?"  
  
"The thorns are poisonous." The elf repeated. "They are matted into a sap, which contains very dangerous toxin. The orcs use it for the blades, my lord."  
  
Legolas took a startled step back from the plant, as did all of the other elves gathered there. "Do we have an antidote?" he asked immediately, his eyes riveted on the bleeding palm of his friend.  
  
The elf did not answer, his eyes too, latched on the blood slowly dripping from his palm. Legolas turned to Sindatil, his captain. "Sindatil? Do we have the antidote?"  
  
Sindatil nodded warily. "I believe so, my lord. I believe one of the healers with us should have some in their saddle bags."  
  
Legolas eyes widened. "Well, where are they? What healers do we have with us?"  
  
Sindatil answered calmly, "Hodorea and Elear are two of the best healers in the realm, your highness. I am sure they are more than able to deal with Astalder's injuries," he assured the elf, giving a nod in his direction.  
  
Legolas relaxed visibly, and nodded, his eyes on the thorns once more. Something gleamed from them, caught in the still early morning light...something red. Blood.  
  
"Sindatil," Legolas said immediately as the elf began to walk away in search of the healers. The elf paused. "yes, my lord?"  
  
"What does this look like to you?"  
  
Sindatil took several steps backwards, then paused. Softly, he replied, "it is blood, my lord."  
  
"And it is not Astalder's." Legolas replied. It was not a question.  
  
"And it is not Astalder's." Sindatil repeated softly.  
  
Legolas turned to him. "Go, fetch the healers. Give Astalder the antidote and then hurry back." His eyes went once more to the forest beyond as he added quietly, "We must find her, now. The poison is quick."  
  
Sindatil studied him for a moment, before turning and nodding. "Ai! Elear! Hoderea!" he called out, loudly, and several other elves echoed his call. "Elear!"  
  
Legolas frowned, and his hand strayed to the necklace in his pocket. "We must find her," he muttered. "Soon." 


	6. Poison

Seasa staggered through the forest, her brow contorted tightly in pain. Beads of sweat dotted her brow, and her face was suddenly ghost white, standing out in stark contrast to her dark hair. _ What is happening to me?_ she thought frantically as she collapsed against at tree, leaning her back against the large trunk. She tried to draw her strength from nature, calling to the trees around her, but there was no answer. She grit her teeth in frustration, her mind slowed dangerously, her thoughts sluggish. It had started about an hour ago -- She began to feel burning, numbing pains in her neck. It had steadily worked its way downwards, and she had stubbornly forged on, determined to put more of a distance between her and her search party. But with every jarring step she took, the pain grew steadily more intolerable. The searing burns were now inching past her stomach and into her thighs, and Seasa knew if she didn't do something, it would seize her legs and she would be unable to move. As it was, her thighs had stopped obeying her and she had to walk stiff-legged through the dark forest. The sun was high in the sky, but black dots blurred her vision and she blinked twice, trying to clear her eyes. It was no good. She sank lower against the tree, closing her eyes lightly. _ What is going on?_ she thought slowly. "I am of elven kind; I do not get ill," she murmured aloud, her words stubbornly pushed past lips frozen with pain. Suddenly, she began to shiver, her entire body racked with dreadfully cold chills. _One moment I am burning, the next I am freezing!_ she thought frustrated as she forced her stiff arms to stiffly rub her shoulders, trying to regain warmth. By all accounts she had ever heard of a human flu, this surely was what it seemed to be like. _But I am **not** mortal!_ she screamed inwardly. Her eyes, the only part of her body that still moved properly, though her vision was blurred, darted upward as she heard the dull flutter of wings. A raven was perched in the branches above her heads, it's inky eyes starring down at her. It let out a screech, and she winced. "Quiet," she called to it, her words slurred. "They'll find me!" But it didn't pay heed, and only let out another piercing shriek. Seasa scrambled to her feet, determined to keep moving, but her legs buckled beneath her. Unconsciously, her hand moved to her throat, reaching for the emerald pendant she always wore -- but it wasn't there. As if she thought her hands were playing tricks on her, she glanced down. But it was gone. "By the sea and stars!" she exclaimed furiously, her words slurring together, though her anger was pronounced. She tried again to get back to her feet, but her legs wouldn't support her. Desperately, she glanced around for a safe place to rest..to sleep. _ Sleep,_ Seasa thought longingly. _ That's what will clear this up. A nice, relaxing rest.._

She glanced around, and spotted an innocent clump of leaves nestled between two pines. She tried one last time to stand, but it was no use, and she had to reach up and grab a branch to stay on her feet. Her body shook with exhaustion and stress, and she gritted her teeth as she swung herself towards the leaves. She fell like dead weight, her hands to slow to catch her fall. Her body slammed to the ground, and though her nerves were dulled, she could still feel pain and she unwillingly let out a moan of torment. "Oh, Valar," she muttered thickly. "Help me." 

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Is there any sign of her, Sindatil?" Legolas called tiredly, his voice plagued with worry. The blonde elf several hundred feet ahead of him shook his head. "There are signs she was _ here_, my lord. But she is no longer here now."   
  
Legolas cursed softly under his breath. "Damnit." His mount pricked his ears curiously, and Legolas sighed, reaching out absentmindedly to stroke his horse's long satiny neck. The horse snorted gratefully in reply, a lift in his step now that he was assured Legolas was alright. And it gave Legolas an idea. Elves can talk to all good beasts; they can not have in depth discussions, but they can generally communicate with him. His eyes darted to the patches of sky seen between the thick, large patches of forest leaves blotting the sky. Several birds were nestled in the trees, and Legolas immediately signaled to a proud looking raven who was watching him curiously, and had been watching him ever since the whole serpent ordeal. The raven paused for a moment, before fluttering down to rest on Legolas's arm. "Find her," Legolas whispered pleadingly. "I cannot have her death on my shoulders." The raven blinked at him, and let out a low note, before taking to the skies. He heard several footsteps behind him, and swung his head around to see Astalder astride his mount, several paces behind him. "Astalder!" Legolas exclaimed worriedly. "Should you not be resting?"   
  
Astalder smiled gently, inclining his head politely. "Thank you for your concern, my Prince. But I assure you Elear has given me the antidote. I am still a bit sluggish, but the poison had not gotten far into my system. The further the poison gets, the longer the recovery usually takes. I am fine."   
  
Legolas's eyes anxiously searched his long time friend's to see if he told the truth, but when he saw no sign of clouded pain or deceit, his face broke into a smile. "It is good to have you with us, _ mellon nin._ You are a far better tracker then I. Perhaps you can help us find our wayward captive before it is too late."   
  
Astalder nodded confidently, nudging his horse so that the beast pulled alongside Legolas's. Elves branched out on either side of them, combing the forest, their senses alert and ready. But Astalder's brow was furrowed. "With your pardon, my lord," he began respectfully albeit reluctantly, "I'd like to ask you a question."   
  
Legolas glanced over, his brow furrowed. "Of course, my friend. Please do not hesitate; we are among friends here."   
  
Astalder nodded his thanks at the Prince. Legolas hated his title and when his friends acted strange about it; but when duty called, he was the Prince he needed to be.   
  
"Your question, Astalder?" Legolas prompted when nothing was said. "I was wondering, Legolas -- why such concern for the captive? It would serve her right if she died in pain for betraying the crown."   
  
Legolas's eyes widened at the hostility in his friends voice, and he locked eyes with him. He saw only bitter pain and hatred, and then he remembered that Astalder's father had died in the last of the several battles during the Alliance of Elves and Men which brought down Sauron, the Great Deceiver. No wonder Astalder would be bitter towards any hint of betrayal

"If she were to die of her own fault, I would feel no guilt." Legolas said carefully. "But she has been poisoned because she was fleeing from us, and, truth be told, I am no longer positive of her guilt. If she _is_innocent, and is fleeing from us out of fear, rather then cowardice, then I would not have her passing lie on my heart."   
  
Astadler nodded thoughtfully, considering this, but when he opened his mouth to talk, Sindatil's shout cut him off.   
  
"Prince Legolas! Prince Legolas! Come look!"   
  
Glancing at Astalder, both elves urged their mounts forward towards where Sindatil was standing on foot. His eyes were locked on the ground and as Legolas approached, he glanced up.   
  
"Look at these tracks," he said, pointing out dragged lines and overly large footprint. He took a couple steps forward, his hands still pointing to the ground. "Look -- here, and here are her footprints. But they are uneven; she is limping, and slowing down. Were she moving at normal pace she would be far ahead of us by now but--" he reached down to the ground to the side of a footprint, swiping his finger. Fresh mud came away. "These tracks are fresh."   
  
Legolas's eyes lingered on the footprint, before he glanced around, carefully surveying the area. In the distance, he heard a bird caw. No -- not a bird. _ A raven.._

"Ai, ai!" he exclaimed, leaving his friends and hurrying forward, his eyes back on the ground. He followed her footsteps in the fresh mud, his pace increasing as he heard the bird caw again. It was still some distance away, but he was closer now, he could feel it. Behind him, he heard Astadler and Sindatil gathering the other elves together and the horses, and following him. His eyes now left the ground and searched the trees, looking for the raven. 

About ten minutes later, he quickly spotted the raven nestled in a large oak tree..but there was no sign of Seasa. "Where is she?" Legolas shouted to the bird, his adrenaline running. "Where?!"   
  
The bird screeched and took flight, circling over his head, his inky eyes never leaving one particularly spot on the ground. Legolas's eyes followed his gaze, and his sharp vision quickly spotted a black strand of hair amongst the red and browns of the forest ground. 

With a last screech, the bird flew away, and Legolas whispered his thanks. He immediately dropped to his knees besides the thick pile of leaves, his eyes frantically searching. Moving several leaves aside, he quickly uncovered Seasa's pale face. She wasn't breathing, but at his touch, her eye lids fluttered open. He quickly took scooped her out of the leaves, into his arms, and could hear her breath rattling around in her chest as she struggled to make her lungs work. Her eyes searched his, seeing but unseeing, with a glazed look about them. She didn't seem to recognize him. "Ada?" she breathed. 

Against his will, Legolas's soft heart began to ache. "No," he said softly, standing up with her in his arms, walking slowly back towards the direction they had come. "No." 

She blinked slowly, and winced as she drew a breath, as if even that caused her pain. She muttered something past cracked lips, but her words were so quiet even his sharp hearing could not catch it, and she struggled to repeat herself. "Valneuma?" 

Legolas's eyes widened and he almost dropped her with shock. Valneuma was the name of an elf -- an evil, dark elf who was so twisted by his want for power that he had handed over control of his entire village to one of Sauron's minions -- the Nazgul. Sauron had promised Valneuma power, but had instead turned him into a mindless slave -- the elf was still alive as far as Legolas knew, but was now helping Sauron organize the defeat of Mirkwood. What in Valar's name would posses Seasa to even _think_ his name in a time like this? "Seasa!" Legolas whispered anxiously, shaking her slightly as her eyes fluttered shut. Her pink lips were dry and cracked, and her black hair soaked with perspiration. Beads of sweat dotted her entire face, but she shivered as if freezing. He could hear her wheezing, and knew her lungs were slowly being filled with poison. 

Deciding immediately to worry about Valneuma later -- though he **swore** to himself that he would not forget this, he _could_ not forget this-- it was not the time. He needed to interrogate Seasa, and he could not do that if she was dead. He shook her slightly again. "Seasa, look at me." He commanded firmly. "SEASA!" 

The girl's jade eyes fluttered open one last time. Blurred images swam across her vision, and a unfamiliar figure was crouched over her. "N-nana?" she croaked, but the being shook his head, even as darkness crept into her vision. "Seasa, hold on.." it was saying. "You'll be fine." 

But as she drifted off back into sleep, her body burning and freezing with pain, Seasa couldn't help but think he was wrong. 


	7. Lies

Legolas dropped his head down into his hands, strands of his blond hair clinging to his fingers with sweat. The past few hours had been the most rushed of his life -- when the healers had finally been able to administer the cure to Seasa, they were appalled to realize that the poison was too far into Seasa's system for the antidote to have a proper effect. There had been no choice but to bleed her; black blood oozed from the wound they created in her stomach, but the venom had become thick, oily and dense, blocking the blood from traveling throughout the body. Luckily, however, she hadn't had enough of the poison in her to complete clog her bloodstream, and though she lost several pints of blood, they had managed to remove the majority of the poison from her system. The antidote had been forced down her throat, and now, as she lay in a hasty bundle of soft blankets and cloaks, color was once again returning to her face.

While the healers, Sindatil and Legolas hovered over Seasa, the rest of the elves had taken the initiative. Seeing as things weren't going well with their captive, Astalder had ordered a number of _flets_ to be built. Flets were originally make-shift homes used by the elves of Lorien, but wood elves everywhere would use them when they needed swift shelter, and as night had fallen, Legolas had been extremely grateful for his friend's quick thinking. 

Candle light flickered in the dark of the night, causing eerie shadows to play across the floor of the flet and the trunk of the trees. Seasa was in a sound sleep, but Legolas and Sindatil sat with their backs against the tree trunk. Above them, below them, and around them, the rest of the company was either on watch, or taking their share of the rest in one of the three flets the company had built. 

There was a rustling in the leaves below them, something that didn't sound to be of woodland creature's movements, and Legolas glanced over. Sindatil's eyes were open, but he was lost in thought, having not heard the noise. _Perhaps it is that raven from before, _ Legolas thought as he slowly got to his feet. _Maybe he has come back to see how Seasa fared._ He was sure the rest of the company would have heard the noise, but his interest was piqued. He glanced over the edge of their makeshift shelter, surprised to see several elves in the flet below them conversing and talking in worried, muted tones. Astalder and another elf whom Legolas couldn't see were speaking in hushed tones, as if Astalder didn't wish to be overheard -- _And that would make sense,_ Legolas thought anxiously, _ As besides myself and Sindatil, Astalder would be the highest ranking. But what is going on? Why does Astalder wish for secrecy? _ The worry in Astalder's brow deepened as he continued talking, now gesturing with his hands and shaking his head. Legolas straightened, frowning, glancing at Sindatil. "Sindatil, I'm going to go speak with Astalder for a moment. Keep an eye on Seasa; Elear had warned she may awake and need more of the antidote." 

Sindatil had gotten to his feet as Legolas spoke. "Yes, my lord." He agreed softly, his eyes flickering into the Prince's. "Is anything amiss?" 

Legolas shrugged, his muscles rippling beneath his light tunic. "I am not sure; I shall return quickly to inform you." 

Sindatil nodded, leaning back against the tree trunk with his arms crossed. "Yes, your highness." 

Legolas quickly descended to the lower flet, his eyes trained on Astalder. As his feet dropped onto the firm floor of the flet, his eyes locked on the newly arrived elf and with a start, he recognized him as the King's personal messenger. What was so urgent that a high ranking official such as Wingiâ had to be sent out in the depths of the night? 

Now greatly distressed, Legolas simply waved his hand and several of the elves standing guard gave short bows. "Please," he said simply, meaning they should not treat him as such. But they completed their bows, and Astalder looked up, his relief palpable. "Oh, Prince Legolas. Lord Wingiâ has troublesome news for you and Captain Sindatil." 

Legolas could feel the eyes of all of his men glued to them, and gently shook his head. "Come," he said, gesturing to the flet above. "Sindatil awaits us, and we can speak freely there. Are you injured?" He asked, noticing Wingiâ was tightly clutching his left shoulder, a thick red substance oozing through his clenched fingers, but Wingiâ simply shook his head, his fair face anxious. "I must speak with you first, Prince Legolas," he said, his grave voice hoarse, and Legolas nodded. Injuries were always horrible to deal with, but duty came first, especially in the kingdom of Mirkwood. With Astalder and Legolas's assistance, Wingiâ managed to get into the quieter, more private flet upset. His face had paled dramatically, and his lips were a bruised, bluish purple color. 

"Orcs," Wingiâ rasped. "About twenty miles south of Old Forest Road. They're burning trees and taking captives as they go. They marched out of Dol Guldur, headed straight towards Thranduil's Halls and Old Forest Road, but they seemed to have stopped and are simply maundering around." 

Legolas eyes bore into Wingiâ's, his face horribly troubled. He spoke in a hushed voice, the flickering light of the candle casting their faces into sharp relief. "But what of the Mirkwood Guard?" Legolas asked immediately, naming a elite section of Mirkwood warriors. Many of the Guard were with him on this particular mission, Legolas realized, but there should still be about seventy or so elves left to disband the murdering group of orcs. But Wingiâ shook his head. "The rest of the guard was down **at** Dol Guldur, but the guard was scouting the south end of the citadel. The entire congregation of orcs slipped out of the North entrance, while another was sent to battle with the rest of the Mirkwood Guard. They were forced to retreat, but they overtook the orcs--" Suddenly, Wingiâ stopped abruptly, dropping his eyes. He touched his fingers to his lips and then to his heart before murmuring, "Quental was shot, my lord. The Guard attempted to rush him back to the Halls, but they didn't have any healers with them, and.." Wingiâ sighed, "he fell." 

Legolas's eyes widened, his face paling severely and Sindatil clutched the tree trunk for support. "Quental? But he is but a child! Was this not his first mission?" 

Wingiâ shook slightly, his body aching from the injuries—Legolas, distraught though he was, quickly noticed the older elf's struggle to stay standing. "Here, please – rest." He grasped the elf's elbow, slowly easing the three of them to the ground. "Quental was my nephew," Wingiâ said slowly. "I don't know how I shall tell his mother. " He continued to shake, and Sindatil slowly pulled the elf's hand away from his arm. A deep, dark wound, including a hunk of missing flesh, glared at them, and Wingiâ glanced down, almost as if he had forgotten about it. "Oh, the spiders," he said dismissively. "I almost didn't recall-- there is a congregation of them directly north of you. You should double your guard tonight." 

"And we will," Legolas assured the distraught elf. He spoke in a soothing, consoling tone; Wingiâ had gone through a lot to deliver this message to him and the elf's adrenaline was all but spent. In the same tone, Legolas addressed Sindatil, eyes still on Wingiâ. "Captian, please go inform Astalder to double our guard and tell the rest of the company that we will awake before dawn tomorrow. We shall go see how the area of Old Forest Road stands before returning to the Palace." "Yes, my lord." Sindatil agreed, slowly rising. He shot a glance at Seasa; she hadn't moved, but he could have sworn he heard her breathing rather loudly if she was in a sound sleep. 

Meanwhile, Seasa was awake and alert, listening intently. Her limbs were still rather stiff, and it took her several moments before she realized where she was and what was happening. Her heat hammered in her chest, as she once again realized that she was captive. She could only imagine Legolas's anger when he realized she was waking, but she turned her attention back to the Prince. Wingiâ, at the prompting of Sindatil, had been brought down to the other flet to receive medical attention. The elves seemed unnerved by the news of the Orc's movements at Old Forest Road when the Guard was nearby. They were becoming bolder and bolder; even Mirkwood's elite guard could not beat back the beasts. Astalder slowly climbed into the upper flet, his eyes landing on Legolas's silhouette. The Prince was standing at the edge of the flet, his eyes lost in thought. He seemed thoughtful; his hands were crossed over his chest and his gaze fixed on the dim light of the stars. 

"Your highness?"

Legolas didn't turn around, just waved his hand, inviting him closer. "Yes, Astalder?" 

The younger elf joined him at his perch over looking the forest, but didn't reply. The two just stared over the tree tops of Mirkwood, the occasional shriek rising out of the wilderness. 

"You heard of Quental's death, my lord?" Astalder asked after a moment, his voice soft. Legolas nodded, and after a moment, voiced his thoughts at Astalder's unspoken plea. 

"So much death – but what can be done? Sauron has Mirkwood in his eye and will not rest until he holds it in his hand. That, I understand. But what does he want with us elves? To make us slaves of the Lord of the Ring? Should, Valar forbid, Mirkwood fall to the dark powers, elves would simply need to forsake this land and head for the Valinor. Surely, Sauron knows that?" 

"Sauron is not a fool, but he is as dangerous as one." Asatalder answered quietly. "But I do not believe the elves are his target. Indirectly, we may be. He knows if he manages to conquer our lands we will simply flee – and leave Middle Earth to its fate. I believe the Kingdom of Men is his true target – they are much more easily corrupted and more flexible then elves. Dwarves, they will hide in their mountain caves until Orcs overrun them. But Men? Men will ride up and meet him and perish in battle. Look at a map of Middle Earth, my lord. Mirkwood would give Sauron yet another vantage point to launch his attack on the World of Man. " 

Legolas looked over sharply. "Do you truly believe that?" 

Astalder sighed. "I do." 

Legolas shook his head, sighing. "And elves are aiding him in this course – that is the most painful stab of all." 

Astalder's jaw clenched. "I agree, my lord. I don't understand that riddle at all. Elves are naturally good. Man was made weaker than those of the Elder race – they are known to fall to the lust of power. But Elves?" 

"Elves are born good, but if evil is there only means of survival, they will take it." The voice startled Legolas and Astalder, and they both turned round sharply to find themselves face to face with Seasa. She had risen and was standing in behind them, her body shaking with the effort of merely standing. Neither elf made a move to help her, however, and stood staring at her. Astalder glanced at Legolas but the Prince's face was impassive, his eyes cold. How dare she interrupt, intrude on a private conversation between two high-ranking officers of the Mirkwood Guard? _ It is your own fault, _ Legolas berated himself, _ for having such an open discussion in front of her, even if we though her to be in the realm of dreams. _

Still, no one said anything, and Seasa, her body and mind still sluggish from her experiences, didn't realize the dangerous water she was treading in. "Some elves have suffered through unspeakable experiences, things not even you'd see in your nightmares. Did they suffer these things at the hands of the elves? I think not. You yourself said that men were the weaker race, who lust for power – power through the means of flesh and blood, of elven kind even. The elves who work with the enemy do not work against elf kind, they work against man – man, who is so crazed for power, who cares so little for the value of human life. You think you see everything –" her voice grew reckless, mocking now as bright spots danced in front of her eyes. The antidote had exhausted her, and she was still missing dangerous amounts of blood. She swayed slightly on the spot, and her face blanched. She still needed her respite, but for many years, she had heard the precise opposite of what Legolas was saying – and she had heard it proclaimed as exact. She involuntary knew Legolas was lying, and felt the need to correct him. She rubbed her eye as she paused for breath, and Legolas and Astalder exchanged looks. The spots continued to twinkle brightly but she forced herself to continue, "—you think you see everything from your hallowed halls and tree perches, but you do not see the wickedness of men – there is nothing left in the race but lies, and deceit – Middle Earth would be better off destroyed than in the hands of – " 

"Silence!" 

Seasa was cut short by Legolas terse, harsh command. "You know not of what you speak, she-elf!" 

But Seasa was now gasping for breath, her limbs shaking as she clutched a tree branch for support. Darkness was creeping into her vision -- why had she even started this? She couldn't remember. But Legolas had to now he was wrong—he had to know—"I know more than you do," she hissed, "you privileged, sheltered little elfling! Why do you say I am ignorant when I am the one speaking the truth? Merely because I am a she-elf, does not mean I am unwise in the ways of politics and battles – Lady Galadriel is one of the most powerful elves in all the world—" 

Legolas snorted. "Lady Galadriel is leagues above you," he said coldly. "You dishonor her by even speaking of her, and I say to you that you are ignorant because you are! Tell me, when was the last time you met a man?" 

Seasa did not answer, her eyes falling to his feet. No one spoke for a moment, before Legolas glanced at Astalder, gesturing for him to head towards the exit. "Next time I am in your presence," Legolas said callously as he swept past her, "hold your tongue -- or I shall have it cut off." 

Seasa said nothing, as he lowered himself out of the flet. She heard him give orders to post guards watching her, and then turn to deal with the issue of Old Forest Road. She heard him mention something about a messenger being sent to Rivendell and the names Elladan, Elrohir, and Aragorn, but they meant nothing to her. Her knees shook, and in the distance, a raven screeched across the sky. Seasa collapsed on the floor, her body raked with sobs that ached of fear – fear of her future, fear of the consequences of her actions, and fear for her father…the elf she knew they were thinking of when Astalder and Legolas were just having that conversation – Valneuma. 


	8. Reactions

Dawn broke early for the group the next morning. Seasa had never returned to her bed; instead she stood, staring out over Mirkwood , watching darkness pass into day. No one had ever come back up into the flet; but she could see glowing eyes in the dark in the surrounding tree tops – her own personal guard. 

She sighed, as the red sun rose over the canopy of trees, wrapping her arms around herself – as if she needed a hug and that was the only way she knew how to get one. _ Red sun _ she thought sadly, _ blood has been spilled tonight _. She shivered – the medicine had a draining effect on her system, and she felt exhausted. Plus, having not slept, dwelling on her current situation all night was not having a good effect on her physical well being. 

She didn't turn around when she heard someone climb into the flet, only slightly turned her head. She knew it wasn't Legolas. 

Sindatil cautiously approached her, his eyes carefully observing her. She had dark, telling bags under her jade eyes, and her complexion was startlingly pale. But she was still an elf, and elves are the epitome of beauty – rather than looking hideously tired, overrun and weary, she looked vulnerable and frightened. But Sindatil was not to be fooled; only yesterday had the helpless, feeble elf managed to dupe an entire section of the Mirkwood Guard, and then, through some means, convince the Prince of Mirkwood to save her life. He wasn't sure how to address her – 'my lady' was too formal for a prisoner. 

The Captain hated how apologetic he sounded as he spoke. "I have been given the order to bind your hands." Seasa didn't answer, naturally, but she nodded slightly, and the elf came up behind her and tightly bound her hands behind her back. "Are there any lingering effects of yesterday's events?" He asked as his hands touched her ice cold body. She didn't answer, and he tugged on the ropes binding her hands. "Were there any effects?" 

"No, my lord." 

Sindatil glanced at her, his brow furrowing suspiciously. "Are you up to something?" he asked in a deadly whisper, his hands tightening the ropes around her wrists from tight to painful. She gave a small outcry of pain, but gritted her teeth. She could feel the ropes digging into her skin, cutting her flesh as she refused to answer. "Answer me," Sindatil snapped, giving another painful tug on the ropes. "No!" She finally cried, her head dropping in shame. "I have done nothing! Nothing!" Her words rose in volume until she screamed the last word, her treacherous body beginning to shake. The acrid taste of tears rose in her throat, and her eyes began to sting – but she would not cry. She was so drained, so spent, but this foolish elf would not break her, not yet anyway. 

Astalder suddenly materialized at Sindatil's side, his eyes concerned. There was no love lost between Astalder and Seasa; he considered her a traitor of the worst kind, and she considered him an ignorant bigot. But she was still in their custody, and should harm come to her, someone would have to pay. 

"What is the matter?" he asked immediately. "What is going on?" 

"She refused to answer my questions," Sindatil explained gruffly. 

"Did you strike her?" 

"No," Sindatil answered at once, and Seasa interjected savagely, "He merely cut off the circulation to my hands." 

"Quiet." Astalder answered automatically, mechanically glancing down at her wrists. Drops of blood decorated the ropes that bound her, and with a reproving glance at Sindatil, Astalder gently loosened them. 

"Come," he said tiredly. "The Prince is ready to leave." 

They moved down to the line of horses, and Seasa kept her head down as she passed the row of elves. They were too respectful to make any comments, but their eyes followed her and Seasa discreetly moved closer to Astalder and Sindatil, trying to block herself from view. Astalder, glancing behind him at the long line of elves on horses, understood and grabbed her arms, gently pushing her between Sindatil and himself, blocking her from sight. 

Legolas, astride his mount, waited impatiently for the trio. His horse tossed its head, prancing impatiently and he gently calmed him down with inaudible words of comfort. "Quickly; the sun races ahead of us," Legolas prompted as Sindatil mounted his horse and Astalder lead Seasa towards Legolas. "Where shall – " he gestured to Seasa " – where shall the Lady ride?" 

Seasa glanced up sharply at the polite term, her eyes locking with Astalder's. She couldn't read his expression, but she didn't understand. She knew he hated her and everything she stood for, and yet three times in the last few minutes, he had shown her a great kindness. What was going on? She wasn't supposed to be taken care of by her captors – they were supposed to mistreat her, so she could hate them. Didn't they know that? 

Legolas too, seemed flabbergasted. He hadn't seen Astalder's actions inside the flet, but his quick eyes did see how he hid Seasa from probing eyes – and now, he treated her as a guest, not a prisoner. What was going on? 

His eyes locked with Astalder's, and he nodded as he read the message in Astalder's gaze – "we shall discuss it later". After a moment, Legolas nodded, and though it seemed as if the words pained him, he said, "The Lady shall ride with me." 

Seasa was hoisted up in front of the Prince before she knew what was happening. It was one thing for Astalder to address her as a lady, but Legolas? She was baffled beyond belief by the kindness, and it threw her. She did not know how to react – the last time someone had shown her kindness with no ulterior motive in mind was a long, long time ago, and she was instantly suspicious. 

The party started to move and Seasa took comfort in the steady, rocking gait of the horse. Legolas's arms were securely around her but there was no warmth in his touch and Seasa once again dropped her eyes to the forest floor. She didn't care to look at the brightly colored birds and proud trees. 

Legolas's quiet voice buzzed in her ear and it took her by surprise. She started, whipping around to stare at him with wide, frightened eyes. He gazed back, amused at her jumpiness. When he didn't repeat what he said, she stared at him. A tiny spark of defiance flashed back into her experisson and Legolas was almost glad. This subdued, docile girl was unnerving. Without speaking, she turned around completely. 

Legolas's muffled laugh annoyed her and she bristled. But the last time they had met, he had warned her not to speak, and she wouldn't. 

"The lady is quiet today," Legolas said, but Seasa refused to answer. She could feel her spirits rising, however, whether it was from the new distraction or the new surroundings. "Oh?" Legolas continued. "Nothing sharp or satirical to say?" 

Legolas was unsure as to why he was continuing to taunt her, but something in her eyes when she first mounted had frightened him – a dead, lost look. He had heard her scream of her innocence – who hadn't – and though he was now convinced she was indeed a spy, he now had a new take on things. He knew she had been sent to spy on them – but sent by **someone**, not of her own accord. She was indeed a spy for Sauron, but more of a slave – it wasn't her choice to turn traitor. _Why doesn't she just admit that?_ Legolas wondered, then answered his own question. _She must think that we'll still imprison her. But if she just admits it – there are other options then prison or death. But if we catch her, her life would be in great peril. _. He shook his head, feeling Seasa's stance tense beneath his hands as he gripped her tighter as the horse started at something. He chuckled, and the sound of his laughter made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She shivered, and her hand flew to her throat, only to remember that her necklace was lost. Legolas noticed the action, but said nothing. 

"What you said last night—" Legolas said after a moment, his voice thoughtful, as if he would truly engage in a conversation with her, "was completely out of line." Seasa didn't answer at first, her breath coming in quick, short gasps before she finally answered in a strained voice reeking of sarcasm and bitterness, "Sire, last time I was in your presence you told me to hold my tongue or you would see that it was cut off. As, in the last twenty-four hours, I have grown rather fond of my body and all its contents, I would rather keep my faculties intact by avoiding all discussion with you." 

Instead of becoming frustrated with her, as Seasa had hoped, her comment had the opposite of the desired effect – he laughed. Again. Her fists clenched as he replied, "Ah, there is the fiery elf who yesterday managed to fool dozens of trained warriors!" 

"Dozens of poorly trained, naïve warriors," Seasa said harshly and Legolas shrugged. She could feel his muscles rippling underneath his tunic and she felt very small. "They are taught to believe the best in everyone." 

"That is a weakness," she retorted scornfully. "The best part of someone may be their ability to deceive." Legolas didn't answer for a moment, then said softly, "Then that is a very lonely person." 

------------------------------

Meanwhile, the members of Seasa's village had heard of her capture. Her father was being informed in one of his halls. 

"….It is thought that she has managed to convince the Prince that she is innocent. Many of the warriors currently with the party do not think he will jail her, and will plead with his father, Thranduil King, for her innocence." The messenger finished his statement and Valneuma waved a hand, signaling his dismiss. He was in a tiny, undecorated room, his cold blue eyes the only color in the gray area. Long ago, he had been handsome, full of promise and a thirst for acceptance. Now, his eyes were sunken and his skin sallow. His hair was pallid, his hands weak and translucent. 

Evil does horrible things to one's appearance.

After so many years of isolation from any decent conversation, as Sauron preferred to keep his primary elf leader locked away, from assassins who tried to claim his life, Valnuema had begun to talk out loud to himself. He rose, and walked near the window, his hand on his temple. In a feeble and guilt stricken voice, he whispered, "Oh, what have I gotten her into? I was assured this was a no risk mission…a no risk venture…" Just as suddenly, his face contorted and he slammed his fist onto the stonewall as he roared, "Damn her! I told her not to fail me, and look what she's done!" Turning, he paced away from the window, towards the darker side of his chamber. He longed to be outside, but when he was sane and rational, he knew it was best. Still, this chamber gave him the chills – it reminded him too much…too much of the past…

Many, many years ago, before even Thranduil was born, Valnuema was a young elfling. He and his family were making their way south, and were on the Southern borders of the kingdom when a group of slave traders stormed through the tiny party, seizing Valnuema, his father and older brother. Far away, they were brought, to work their lives away, helping men – their new enemy – build their lands up from rock and stone. It was a hard life and both Valnuema's brother and father died of grief – of longing for their homeland, of love one's left behind. They left Valnuema alone. 

Alone, with only dwarves and other men for company! The elf rebelled – he was above all this! He withdrew from his fellow slaves, and when they attempted to include him in an escape effort, he stayed behind. He bore the brunt of the punishment when the slave traders learned of the others escape, and was thrown into a dark pit, his wounds fresh and festering. Fever claimed his body, and still his captors were relentless. He remembered countless, endless nights of simply begging to see the stars. "Stars?" his captors would sneer at him. "Stars don't exist anymore for you, prissy elfing." 

He was forced to work underground, in the dead of night, when even the stars have gone to sleep. Finally, after three lifetimes of men and more injuries and beatings than he could remember, Valnuema attempted an escape. 

He made it, of course – all of his hard work for many years had made his body strong – and his mind detached. He began to talk to himself, have whispered conversations when his heart burned with such hate he thought it would consume him. Eventually, it did. 

He made his way back to Mirkwood, back to his mother and sister. His mother had shared her husband's fate – she had simply wasted away, and gave up the will to live. His sister, however, welcomed her long lost brother with open arms and an open heart. 

Under her careful touch, he began to feel whole again. He spent long, endless nights under the stars, simply breathing in their light and becoming part of the world again. And for a while, his heart had felt light. The pain of the past was always there, but he managed to push it aside and focus on living again. He laughed – it was forced, but it was still a laugh. He married a lovely elf – a friend of his sister, who helped him recover. He had a son, and a daughter, and no one would ever know that this elf, who loved to be a part of nature, had such a horrific past. 

Valnuema decided to teach his son, who now had the maturity of a human twelve year old, how to hunt. He took him to the edges of the forest, to hunt the white dear. He was just learning how to hold a bow and arrow when a deafening roar screeched in their ears and Valnuema froze. His son did as well; both of their hearing was so sharp that they heard the arrows fly before they saw them. "DUCK!" Valnuema roared, throwing his son down behind his own body. And suddenly, they were upon them, men with sweaty, bloody brows and wild, glowing eyes – they were not slave traders, merely hunters who had wandered into Mirkwood's depths chasing their prey. They didn't see the elf and his son, but Valnuema's son was so nervous and anxious, he accidentally let the arrow he had notched fly. His aim was amazing – first them he had ever held an arrow and he hit his target. The men responded instantly, and though Valnuema picked up the child and swung him behind the bulk of his own body, it was too late. The world of men had claimed yet another immortal life – another life dangerously close to Valnuema's own. 

That was the end of the elf's peace – a mad light came into his eyes and he snapped. He killed every single one of the hunters with a cat-like grace, and for many weeks, stayed in that area of the forest, hunting all of the men who dared entered it's domain. Rumor of him grew, and his wife and daughter began to worry when their husband and brother did not return for months on end. It was said that a dark elf lived in the forest, and all men avoided the area. Eventually, the elf returned back to his home – but it was never the same. He avoided the eyes of his peers, and when rumors of a darkness growing in the forest reached his ears, a darkness that was rumored to aim to destroy the world of men, he was the only one who smiled. 

And when elves began to flee from the Southern depths of the forest, to go survive in the safety of Thranduil's halls, Valnuema, who had become the head of his village, allowed no one to go. Some snuck away and told of a mad elf who aimed to join Sauron – but no one believed them. Some day, they would. 

But by then, it would be too late and Valnuema would have handed over control of the village and the Nazgul would roam freely. Elven casualties wouldn't matter – he would try to make sure they would be few. The real enemy was man, and even his only child would be a pawn in their defeat. 


	9. Failure

_How can I be sure  
In a world that's constantly changin'?  
How can I be sure  
Where I stand with you?  
_ - The Young Rascals, "How can I be sure"   
  
Note: One league=2.6 American miles 

----------------

Seasa's body unconsciously rocked back in forth with the movement of the horse, her eyes open but her thoughts straying to the realm of sleep. Elves have that uncanny ability to sleep with their eyes open, and she used it now, her gaze far off and her posture slackened. Legolas all but ignored her. 

His eyes, instead, were intently searching the surrounding areas. Bits of burned foliage and dead leaves littered the ground, and Legolas knew they were getting closer. His back tensed and he consciously tried to release the tension from his shoulders. It wouldn't do to show how horrified he was; the men would be feeling the same emotions, and they would need a leader...

But even as he thought this, his heart and horse stopped in unison. His mount threw up his head, snorting, side stepping and Legolas - for a moment - couldn't breath. 

Old, majestic trees were knocked to the ground and burned, their spirits fleeing and forsaking this earth. Wisps of smoke danced mockingly towards the sky, and the horrific smell of the burning flesh of many woodland creatures filled their nostrils. This scene stretched as far as the human eye could see, but Legolas could just see the green of trees beyond and it knocked him out of his momentary paralysis. He forced his horse to take several steps forward, cringing as the animal crunched on fried leaves. "Quick," he began in a loud, tight voice. Turning around to face his men, he continued, his face set in a stone-like mask, "Astalder, Set up a perimeter around the area. Catch any remaining Orcs, and kill them." Turning to Sindatil he ordered, "Take a small group of your best men and go after them. Don't go all the way to Dul-Guldor - stay at least two leagues back. But my heart tells me their mischief is not yet completed, they are only waiting for our presence here to fade." 

Both elves nodded, their horses moving into tight gallops. Sindatil went right, Astalder left, their arms raised to order some of the men to follow them. When they had left, only four elves remained at Legolas's side. Turning to them, he sighed. "Come, my friends. We shall search the interior." 

They nodded, immediately spreading out, four abreast just behind him. 

Seasa's consciousness slowly came back to her, the hazy shapes slowly taking bold, defined silhouettes. Her brow furrowed as she saw the ruined forest and she gasped, "What--"   
"Don't speak," Legolas said immediately, his voice harsh. 

Taken aback, Seasa straightened, her eyes slowly taking in the destruction all around them. Her emerald eyes widened and she whispered quietly to herself, "Ed' i'ear ar' elenea.." She shook her head. "By the sea and stars.." 

Legolas ignored her as they carefully picked their way through the forest. A few minutes later, they reached green, soft lands again and the Prince exhaled. In the foliage, hidden, he could see several of Astalder's company positioned should any Orcs return. There was no sign of Sindatil but he hadn't expected there to be. He dismounted, glancing around at the surroundings. Burnt grasses and foliage crinkled beneath his boots, and Legolas dropped to his knees, his head in his hands. His soul ached for this land; elves have a unique connection to the earth and all things good..they can feel what the earth feels..they are affected by reckless acts of hate..they can hear the earth groan in pain...

And as Legolas ran his fingers through the still smoldering ashes, his soul shuddered; for this forest--_his forest_-- was screaming. 

--------------

Seasa too, cautiously dismounted. She glanced around and shivered; the wind whipped through the clearing - before, the wind had to work its way through thick leaves and sturdy branches. Now, the forest had been raised to the ground and the wind delighted in its new territory. Seasa's eyes darted carefully from side to side; she looked alert - frightened. She drew the hood of her cloak over her head carefully, wild black locks of hair framing her face. 

In the distance, she could hear them. They avoided her sight still - but she could still hear them. The orcs were approaching, but the Guard wasn't fully paying attention. They were still looking at the destruction of the forest. They were quietly mourning the loss of the weald; and though many stood on guard, their heads were bowed and their lips were moving without sound. They were praying. 

But though Seasa could appreciate the beauty of nature, she hadn't heard the song of the forest in a long, long time. She'd simply stopped listening. And so this destruction did not effect her as sorely as it did her captors; her spirit was still on guard and shadows prowling in her mind were taking the shapes of orcs. 

But so what? With the melee of a battle, Seasa could simply slip away. If the orcs came upon her, she could simply show them her necklace and they would know who she was -- 

Her necklace. It was gone. 

Her fingertips touched her throat, as if her mind could simply not understand that it was gone. _Damn it_, she thought, but then shrugged. If the orcs were from Dol-Guldur -- and there was not a doubt in her mind that they were -- surely, they would recognize the mention of her village. Elves didn't speak of it anymore; she would gain their trust by simply speaking of her village and naming her father. If they weren't from Dol-Guldur, and seemed especially brutal, she could just make sure she was not found. 

Her eyes lingered on Legolas's fair face. _ It will be simple,_ she thought, and raised her foot to take a step backwards. In the tree directly next to her, she heard the slightest rustle and glanced up. Her eyes locked with Astalder's, and her heart faltered. Something flickered in her eyes, and with her enhanced vision, she caught a glimpse of something hideous, dark and menacing approaching swiftly on from the South. She closed her eyes softly, and Astalder stared intently at her. _What is she doing?_ He asked himself. Her face looked so conflicted-- 

With a deep breath, she screamed, sounding the alarm. Legolas's head shot up, Astalder drop to the ground and all elves in the immediate area snapped to attention. "Orcs, Orcs! Orcs approaching from the South!" She shouted, screaming. Legolas reached for his bow just in time, knocking down the first Orc. Elves seemingly materialized out of no where; arrows flew past Seasa's face with frightening intensity. She gasped as one grazed the back of her neck, and as another whistled through her hair, she screamed in fear. Legolas glanced over, his eyes still clouded with the intensity of battle. "Seasa, get down!" He urged, diving towards her and knocking them both towards the ground. They landed with a thud, Seasa suddenly horrified by her own actions. Those orcs were acting in the name of Sauron, but so was her father! She was only aiding the enemy by saving Legolas and his kin -- _she had aided the enemey_-- 

Sobs, born of exhaustion, fear and confusion, burst from her lips, streaming down from her eyes. She gasped, breathing heavily, realizing Legolas was next to her, kneeling as he shot up at the quickly fading Orcs. But that wasn't what interested her; her eyes latched onto the thin chain dangling from his pocket. She could just make out the imprint of a star in a pocket -- _her_ star. 

"You stole it," she whispered horrified. A wave of guilt crashed over her; she had _saved_ this elf, when he only wanted to kill her father -- not only was he an over privileged, spoiled, disillusioned _princeling_ -- but he was a **theif!**

She put her face into her hands. And as the last orc fell, she shuddered -- deep within her mind, she could hear her father whispering, "Do not fail me." 

_Oh father,_ she thought miserably as Legolas carefully stood up, proclaiming the area clear, _ I already have _. 


	10. I know

_It never was and never will be   
You don't know how you've betrayed me   
And somehow you've got everybody fooled   
It never was and never will be  
You're not real and you can't save me   
Somehow now you're everybody's fool  
_- Evanescence, "Everybody's fool"  
----------------

Seasa stared at Legolas, her lip curling. Pure fury sizzled in her eyes but the Prince of Mirkwood didn't even notice. He stood, talking with Astalder, his voice quietly praising the elf's battle strength. But to Seasa, everything was simply a blur; all she could focus on was that she had aided the enemy -- _aided the enemy _-- and he had **stolen** the only piece of identity that she had with her as a captive. _ She had aided the enemy .._

No one noticed she was still curled on the floor, her fist clenched. She was so angry her mind couldn't even function. Had she been calm, she would have known her motions were irrational; she coiled up into a spring, her face fierce with anger and with a scream, she lunged at Legolas. 

The Prince was totally taken by surprise; his hands instinctively went to his face to protect his head and Astalder, startled, made a move to grab for her arm to restrain her. But she would not be restrained. "You--thief--" she growled at him. Her nails dug into the skin of his face and she dragged them down, ripping off the flesh. "I saved your life and you--you--stole it!" Her voice was nothing more then a hiss and as blood dripped down his face, she pounded her fists into his chest. "THIEF!" 

Legolas had been slow to react but now he violently pushed her off of him, shoving the maiden down to the ground. He stared, aghast at her trembling form as she sprung once again at him, like a mad cat possessed by a demon of fury. Astalder and Elear acted quickly and caught her before she could reach him again, their strong hands wrapped around her shoulders as her body shook, still struggling to reach her prey. "You beast!" She screeched. "I saved you and your kin and you stole from me!" 

Legolas took a step backwards as she continued to fight the elves restraining her. "What are you talking about?" he asked, horrified, taking no notice of the deep scratch in his chin and cheek. "Have you gone mad?" 

"Mad with hate!" Seasa spat, attempting to jerk her hands free. "You stole it from me--" 

"Stole what?!" Legolas shouted, for Seasa's screeches had raised in tone and he had to shout to be heard. The other elves were drawing close now, confused and worried. One of them rushed forward to tend to the Prince's wounds, but he impatiently waved him back. "I'm fine," he said shortly. 

Seasa let out a peel of black laughter, earning another jerk from her captors. "Of course he's fine! What does he have to worry about? He has you fools to die for him should he ever need to step in a real battle, and his father on which to blame anything that goes amiss!!!" Some of the intensity of her attack was fading now, and she glanced down to see the blood on her hands. It didn't register at first, until Legolas took a step closer. "What are you talking about?" He looked terribly concerned, and glancing at Elear, whose face was tense from restraining her, he asked, "Is this madness some effect from her illness?" 

Elear shook his head tersely. "I don't think so, my lord." 

"The illness I suffered at your hands!" She shouted, but her body had stopped struggling. Her voice rose a few octaves. "You steal from me, keep me captive, your captain abuses me -- all because I walked past you at the wrong time, in the wrong place!" Her head dropped and she stared fixedly at the blood on her hands. Her voice fell to a strangled whisper. "And how did I repay you? I saved your life -- _ I aided the enemy _ -- when you stole from me the last piece of identity I have!"

Legolas's brow furrowed and he shook his head. "What are you talking about?!" 

Her eyes snapped up and she strained against the elves holding her. "Don't act like you don't know! You must have taken it from me while I was sleeping -- it is the only symbol of my village I have left! All else has been burned or stolen and now you've stolen this!" 

A look of slow realization dawned on Legolas's face and his eyes began to harden. He slowly reached into his pocket, and from his hand dangled the star perched on the emerald ribbon. "This?" he asked, his voice lowering dangerously. "Is this what you're talking about?" 

Suddenly, Seasa knew she'd stepped too far. That part about her village -- she shouldn't have said it -- he was going to find out -- 

Seasa slowly turned her head away from his menacing gaze and he took a step closer. Her arms went slack in Elear and Astalder's grips but they still held onto her tightly. Astalder glared suspiciously at her and Legolas took another step closer, the necklace dangling from his hands. In a slow paced voice laced with suspicion he began, "You told me you were from Silmataurea - _Never Winter Woods _. Why would a single star represent Never Winter Woods?" 

Seasa did not reply; her face was flushed, her eyes closed. 

"Answer me." Legolas urged in a dangerous tone. When she didn't reply, he slowly unsheathed his long elven dagger. "I demand a reply." 

The gleaming steel of his dagger pressed into the thin skin at her neck. The tempo in her veins increased and Legolas whispered, his voice deadly silent but all in the silent clearing heard him, "Are you, or are you not from Silmataurea?" 

The blade pressed further into her skin and for a moment it looked as though she wouldn't speak; but finally she cried, "No, no! I am not from Silmataurea." Hot, fresh tears rolled out from under her closed eyelids, and she cursed herself to Mordor and back again. What had she been thinking -- 

She hadn't been thinking. And now her cover would be blown. They would learn her true identity, and she would be brought to Thranduil's halls in chains. 

"Where," Legolas breathed, "Are you from?" 

But she wouldn't answer and suddenly her mind's eye saw what she must look like. A helpless female sobbing as the bullying male pressured her into betraying herself. _ Not me,_ Seasa thought rebelliously, _not now_. And she slowly raised her head, her chin high and stared him straight in the eye. Several elves gasped at this blatant disrespect for authority but Seasa didn't blink. 

Even Legolas looked slightly surprised, but Seasa thought she saw his mouth twitch, as if it longed to smile. But she must have imagined it, for it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Legolas eyes fell on the single, glass star in his palm. She could see in his eyes that he was working to put two and two together as only he could--

And suddenly, he knew; it clicked in his mind and she knew it the instant it did. His eyes quickly darted to her face and he took another step closer, so that his face was only inches from her. Astalder and Elear released their grips on her and stepped back. The Prince leaned in, his lips almost brushing her ear and her heart stop. 

"I know," he whispered, so quietly she had to strain to hear him. "I know you're from _his_ villiage. I know you're _his_ daughter." 

Seasa blanched as Legolas pulled away, her skin turning a milky white as the blaze in her eyes died. Legolas stared at her, his mouth pressed into a firm line. He mouthed one thing to her, before she hung her head in shame. 

"I know." 


	11. Value

_I assume this is punishment  
For the mistakes I have made  
In a world where my actions  
Speak louder than words...  
Cuz I'm lonlier now than I've ever been.  
Limp Bizkit - "A Lesson Learned" _  
--------

**Author's Notes: *Hangs head in shame* Okay! Okay! You caught me. I've been slacking in the adjectives department lately. But this is why I love reviews, even slightly scary ones about the gates of hell [lol]. Perhaps all I needed was a kick in the butt? And about the whole 'Mary Sue' thing -- I'm trying to stay away from it, but it *is* kind of hard as this story *is* a romance. Don't gag, I warned you all way back in the beginning. Many people automatically presume a romance will become a Mary Sue and so I'm trying to prove them wrong. *Not saying this about anyone in particular..* But yeah. I don't know if I'm succeeding but oh well, I really don't care too much about Mary-Sue and her oh-so-perfect ways. Yeah, my character is pretty (#1 sign of a Mary-Sue) but my character is an _elf!_ She _has_ to be pretty! I suppose I could write about a hairy dwarf-woman, but who even knows if they exist? I'm going with the dwarf springing out of the ground theory, but don't tell Gimli ;)   
And oh yeah - don't worry about Seasa becoming the noble little elf who betrays her father for the sake of righteousness, love and justice. It makes for nice fluff, but not in my story. Seasa is convinced she's on the right side here, and I for one am not going to argue with her. Woe to he who does (*cough*Legolas*cough*) So yeah. I'm going to stop boring you now. This chapter is my Holiday present to you *cheesy grin*. So I hope you all like it! [And btw - thanks soo much for the reviews _everybody,_ it really makes my day :) **

---------------

Night had fallen on Mirkwood. Swift as a shadow, silent as death, it took the mighty forest in its hold and sucked the light out of even the most open of pockets. 

Mirkwood's Prince surveyed the land with narrow eyes, his gaze often falling to the glimmers of firelight scattered throughout the forest - the only sign of life besides the uncomfortable rustle of leaves and occasional hiss of Valar knows what. He looked at home, perched among the leaves and birds of the night, but the elf's mind was not as peaceful as his physical appearance may have led some to believe. 

Legolas dangled one hand off the side of the thick branch he was perched on, leaning his head back against the sturdy trunk. Below him, his men had retreated to yet another flet - though this time, there was only one necessary. 

Sindatil's men had never come back. 

Thoughts, ideas, half finished fragments of concepts so horrifying he refused to complete them rushed through his head, but still Legolas couldn't imagine what could have happened to them. Surely the Orcs wouldn't be able to wipe out the entire group - would they? Legolas shuddered, the ghastly thought striking terror into his heart. He had to believe they would return -- they were the best of the Mirkwood guard. The elite, the untouchable, the best of the best. Their skills would see them through. 

The waning moon barely highlighted Legolas's golden hair, and his eyes sought out the stars. Even their light seemed dim; shadowed, somehow, by the overwhelming heaviness pressing in on the fair Prince's heart. The willow he was in towered over many of the other narrower trees, and it's thick branches just forced its way through the tree canopy.

A brisk wind whipped through the sky above the treetops, gently tugging at Legolas's hair and stroking his face. But unconsciously, Legolas winced. Even the refreshing breeze stung his sore face, the long, thin marks left by Seasa's rage standing out in vivid contrast to the elf's normally pale and clear complexion. The skin where Seasa had dug her nails in and viciously tore out his flesh had finally stopped bleeding, but the skin around it was red, raw and extremely sensitive. 

That afternoon's incident played before his mind's eye as he thought of his injuries, and he frowned, his mouth set into a firm line. Sighing, the stars above twinkled as he slowly slipped his hand into his pocket. His fingers closed around the star jewel and he glanced down at it, sprayed across his palm. Even in the weak light, it gleamed and Legolas frowned. A bird screamed across the sky, flying towards home, but Legolas took little notice of his glossy black feathers -- it was merely a raven, nothing more and Legolas ignored it, his gaze focused on the jewel in his hand. There could be no question now of the Lady Sea-- no, he corrected himself bitterly, the *captive's* intention. She was Valneuma's daughter, a spy sent to be an intricate part of Mirkwood's undoing. Her plan would have eventually ended in his father's death, his own death, and any who opposed her -- _ or her father _. 

Legolas sighed, leaning his head against the trunk as he closed his eyes. He slipped down to the lower branches, ducking back into the dark warmth of the forest. Climbing onto one of the largest branches, he eased his back against the heavy trunk. He could see into the flet where his warriors dwelled, but he still retained his privacy. Lazily, he bent one knee, letting the other dangle over the side. He carefully dropped the necklace onto his knee -- so he wouldn't have to touch it any longer. Even the touch of the cursed necklace felt like it was burning into his palm and he had to reassure himself that the star hadn't left a scar with a searching glance. 

Bitterly, he regarded the charm. He resisted the urge to throw the necklace -- to cast it off, deep into the forest where it might never be found. He had to keep it now, even though the very thought of it made him flush with rage. Just imagining the event caused him to turn bright red with embarrassment and he fought the flush rising in his cheeks even as he sat there in the dark. He was a Prince; he was to be respected by his subjects. How could they respect him if he allowed himself to be beaten by their only captive? Only _female_ captive? Legolas could feel his rage stirring and took several deep breaths. He sighed, glancing once again at the necklace. He couldn't destroy it, though he longed to -- longed to see the look on Seasa's face when she realized that her _precious_ necklace was gone forever. He smirked at the thought. But he couldn't get rid of it. He couldn't. It was evidence. 

He knew what she was there for. He knew her plan. There was only one thing left to figure out. 

What was he going to do about it? 

With a deep sigh, coming from the very recess of his soul, Legolas stood up, his legs wobbly. His mind was set; his face was grim. _ "I hope this necklace meant a lot to you,"_ he whispered to himself, his heart, for some reason, terribly sad,_ "because it just cost you your life."_

-------------

Seasa closed her eyes. The low murmuring of the elves around her just floated over her consciousness; she could hear them talking, knew they were discussing her, but most of them spoke in the common tongue to disguise their speech. Seasa had never learned the common tongue; her father deemed it too human-like. 

Thick vines, fresh from the forest, had been wrapped around her wrists to serve as make-shift ropes, and with her back hidden as she kept her face turned towards the warriors, she worked diligently on untying them. But it was proving difficult; everytime she looked up, there was a different pair of eyes on her. Everytime she tuned in to listen to their conversation, it would drop to a hushed whisper. And everytime she met their eyes, she could read their thoughts; on their lips were whispers of her future, what would become of her. Their thoughts, at least for this moment, were in unison. 

She knew very well Mirkwood's penalty for assaulting a royal -- and they knew it too. 

Death. 

She rolled her neck back, letting her head dangle backwards -- almost as if her thoughts were too heavy for her to carry. She couldn't believe she had assaulted the Prince; he had deserved it, of course, but her whole plan of manipulating him vanished. As well with any hope of being set free. Her mission had evaporated, transformed into a new, desperate chapter of her life. Escape was her only option, her only hope. 

She was not prepared to die. She was immortal; death was not in her future.

Before, all she wanted was to make it out of this successfully. Now all she wanted to do was escape out of this alive. 

But in the many hours between her confrontation with the Prince Royal of Mirkwood -- after they had subdued her, bound her, and stuck her in this forsaken flat -- her thoughts had been running. A new plan emerged. She'd escape and return to her father. His wrath would be quick, it would be furious, it would be severe. But it would be like a storm she could weather out; Legolas's would be a quick spinning tornado -- short lived, but deadly.

Her thoughts full of these dismal half-formed plans, she snuck at glance at the warriors -- Astalder met her gaze head on and she quickly jerked her eyes away. There was something about that elf she didn't like, didn't trust; perhaps it was his random acts of kindness that unsettled her. Or maybe it was the way his gaze looked right through her, so that she swore he knew exactly what she was thinking. She forced her gaze away from the fair haired elf, directing her eyes towards the forest. It looked particularly dark and formidable tonight, Seasa reasoned, probably due to the dark situations surrounding it.

She did her best to keep her face blank; her eyes unconcerned. Her fingers picked and pried their way into the tight vines, having minimal success. But a quick glance up again showed that Astalder would not be deflected that easily, and their eyes met again. 

The elves that made up the Mirkwood Guard were all huddled together, but conversation was at a minimal. They spoke with quick whispers, quiet glances and telling nods. Lembas bread crumbled in their hands before it reached their mouths, and the stale water did little to improve the quality. Seasa had no idea where the Guard had been before picking her up; but if they were half as exhausted as she was, she was amazed the were sill alert. Their faces seemed tight, tense - their motions listless. They ate only to keep up their strength, but it was easy to see in their faces they were tired of this mission -- of any mission -- and wished to return home -- if only for a little while. Worry for their friends who had gone with Sindatil into the depths part of Mirkwood plagued their thoughts and many were craving the sweet release of sleep from the agony of simply waiting. 

Astalder and two other elves stood; their arms were crossed and their eyes dark. They were the highest ranking elves in the party; but unlike in other systems, they did not eat before the elves they controlled. They ate after them, as a sign of respect towards their men's skill, dignity and responsibility they all had towards one another. Sindatil usually stood among these elves; but he had not returned. 

The trio spoke to no one, the candle light making them formidable foes, but Astalder suddenly left the wall. He exchanged a telling look with one of the standing elves, circled around his men once, as if to make sure everyone was all right, then slowly ended up next to Seasa. He gently eased himself to a sitting position next to her and her head swung towards him in surprise. 

Her eyes regarded him warily, and his gaze flickered into hers for a brief instant. His face was handsome, and peaceful and as she stared, something like pity stirred in his eyes. The darkness of the forest clawed at her mind, and she was almost welcome for the intrusion upon her thoughts -- she was thoroughly exhausted of imaging the many torturous ways she would be killed if she didn't escape, and soon. She said nothing to him, and he said nothing to her. 

His tunic was torn, having been grabbed by branches in his many tree climbing escapades in the last two days. No blood splattered his clothing, however, Seasa noted dully. He was obviously an expert marksman. I just hope I am not his next target, she thought bitterly. 

She was expecting something vaguely like a lecture, but instead he when he opened his mouth, he said calmly, "Sindatil has not yet returned." 

Seasa arched a delicate brow, unsure if a reply was warranted. When he continued to stare mildly at her, she said hesitantly, "I'm sure the Captain will return shortly, my lord." 

Astalder nodded slowly, his gaze wandering to the elves in front of him. They were doing their best to accept orders patiently, but for such a large group of the Guard to have been sent out to catch one _female_ spy irked their egos and it was written in their faces. "The Guard is weary," Astalder noted. "They wish to return to Thranduil's Halls." 

Seasa's face paled at the mention of the King, and again she shot Astalder a puzzled look. Why was he having this conversation with her? For that was what it was -- indeed, a civil conversation. It struck her as odd that she took great pains to be polite and respectful towards this elf, when she went out of her way to be disobedient and abrasive to his -- their -- Prince. 

"I am sure all of us would like to go home, sir," She replied after a moment. 

Astalder looked at her, his shoulder just brushing hers. Her fingers slowed in their adamant pursuit of freedom and she stopped tugging at the ropes, suddenly terrified he knew what she was planning. "Do you wish to go home, milady?" 

Seasa's heart stopped and she stared blankly at him. Her voice came out rushed, excited. "My lord, do you mean to set me-- 

He finished her sentence in his mind and shook his head slightly. She stopped speaking abruptly, her hopes fallen. "I mean, do you really?" He clarified. 

Seasa's spirits crashed, her heart suddenly beating painfully again. She looked away from him, her gaze once again taking refuge in the forest. This was nothing but cruelty, mockery-- "With all due respect, my lord, I do not wish to be preached to." 

Astalder again shook his head, the candlelight making his face seemed older than it truly was. The elf's patience was renown among his men and he fell back on it now. 

"That is not my intention. I merely inquire as to your true thoughts. What waits for you home?" 

Seasa didn't reply. Her body had grown stiff with renewed hatred, and an icy wall had been quickly constructed behind her eyes. A long moment passed, and then Astalder answered it himself. He leaned his head back, his eyes closed dreamily as he rested against the tree trunk. A lazy smile lit his lips. "I have a family awaiting me," He said softly. "A little boy who yearns to carry his father's cares and a wife so beautiful not even Lúthien Tinúviel casts her in shadow." 

Seasa did not turn her head towards her; but he knew she was listening. "My little boy is truly something," he continued, in that same, awestruck yet wistful voice. "He is trying to teach himself how to fly. His mother tells him it's not possible, but I tell him he needs bigger wings." Seasa finally glanced at him, out of the corner of her eye but said nothing. Her silence, however, was all the prompting Astalder needed to continue. "He asked me where I go sometimes when I don't come home for a very long time. I tell him I am out working, protecting our people. He tells me I better come home with some present for him." The tiniest of smiles worked its way onto Seasa's face. "He wants to come with me, sometimes. He is big enough, he boasts, to take down a whole pack of Orcs. I do not doubt it, I tell him, but perhaps we should wait until he can hold a bow. So I give him a different job. You must be the man of the family, I say, until I return. Don't let Nana fall in love with anyone else." Astalder sat up straight and smiled, as if he could see his little boy's solemn face as he made the promise, standing right before him in the flet. He shot Seasa a look. "He takes his job very seriously." 

Seasa smiled slightly. "I am sure he does, my lord." 

Astalder's eyes fell on his men again and he heaved a sigh. "The Guard too, is eager to return to the Halls. Before this whole business -- " he gestured towards her -- " we had already been on the move for almost four months. It is time for us to return to the Palace, and switch positions with the other half of the Guard. These elves have families too." 

The elf grew quiet and Seasa glanced into his face at his finely chiseled features. His face grew greatly troubled and she couldn't help but asking -- "My lord?" 

He glanced back at her, surprised almost to see her still listening to him. "I am just thinking of Quental's family," he explained softly. "It was but his first outing with the Guard." 

Seasa's emerald eyes studied his proud face, surprised to see the overwhelming sadness. "We are at war." She said finally. "There can be no victory without suffering."

Astalder shot her a sideways glance. "Is that what you believe?" 

"Yes." Seasa replied firmly, then added, "It's what I was taught." 

Astalder nodded thoughtfully. "Ah," he said. "You see, I was taught..with suffering, there is no victory." 

Seasa's startled gaze flew to his, her mind balking at the outrageous notion. "But you are a warrior!" She exclaimed. "Surely you must appreciate the reality of death!" 

"It is a reality," Astalder acknowledged, "but a reality that is needless, especially in the world of elves. Why suffer, why die, when we were born to live?" 

Seasa opened her mouth to say something, her face flushed with her own passion for the subject, when suddenly the volume of the area dropped dramatically. She raised her eyes to see the reason for the sudden hush, and her gaze fell on the stony Prince of Mirkwood. 

Legolas seemed unaware the effect his presence was causing, and his eyes slowly prowled the room. He nodded slightly at the majority of the Guard, but when one of the elves standing hesitantly and approached him, he looked terribly uneasy. "Your Majesty, is there any news of Captain Sindatil?" Legolas didn't meet his eyes when he replied, in a terse, short voice, "No." 

"Ah--" the elf seemed to draw back towards the shadows and Seasa didn't blame him. Legolas radiated foul energy and displeasure, and she could tell the young Prince was in a stormy mood. "Where is Astalder?" he snapped and the elf besides Seasa eased himself to his feet. "That's my cue," he muttered, but to his Prince he said, "My lord?" 

Legolas didn't seem surprised to see Astalder next to the captive, but he made a mental note to question his friend about their discussions. The captive, Legolas noted, had turned away as Legolas approached, almost as if she knew her decision already. 

He pulled Astalder aside, his arm tightly grasping his friend's elbow. "Is all well, my friend?" Legolas asked, his voice low. Astalder nodded. "Yes, my lord. Some of the Guard are keeping watch, and have neither sensed nor seen any disturbances." "Good, good," Legolas said, "we shall set back for the Palace at first light tomorrow." 

"First light?" Astalder said startled. "My lord, what of Sindatil--" 

Legolas raised a hand to stop him. "I will ask for two or three volunteers to wait for a few more hours, or days -- whatever they deem necessary. But there is work to be done at the Palace for we have been away for far too long, and --- "Astalder saw the glance the Prince threw towards Seasa and his brow creased with worry, "there are things to be dealt with." 


	12. Mercy

****

Author's Notes: Whoops. Been a while since my last update. No, I don't do it to torture you, I do it cause I do have a life -- lol -- that requires some attention, and my last chapter I meant to post was eaten by a virus. (I swear, it was like JUST WRITTEN and the computer shut down. Coincidence? I think not.) But yeah anyway, in the case that happens again -- and you're just DYING to read the next installment, which I know you all are, there _is_ an easier solution then hunting me down on FictionPress.Com lol. Email me! My email is in my bio, but in case you're in a particularly lazy mood, here it is again: baby_blu_012@yahoo.com   
Save it, memorize it, whatever. L0L, But I'll get the message faster that way and it saves us all the annoyance of reviewing for other stories on other sites lol. I don't mind, lol, I just don't want you to have to go out of your way. Okay. Without further interuptance..

---------------

Seasa crumpled into an ungraceful heap, her eyes trained on the delicate marble floor. She dare not move, and dragged her feet under her, her body unconsciously drawing itself into a ball -- the smallest possible target. She warily let her eyes wander, pausing to bitterly admire the gleaming stone floors. Behind her, she could hear the muffled shuffling of the guards; daring a peek, she could just see the tips of the soft leather boots of Astalder and Legolas. Whispers sighed through the whole of Thranduil's Hall, and Seasa drew a carefully rationed breath. 

This was it. 

Dragged through the wilderness, the last few days had seemed like a blur. She could remember waiting -- thinking -- her thighs aching with the pressure of constant horseback riding, but other then that, the journey had been uneventful. Unfortunately uneventful. 

Any delay, any hindrance to their arrival back in Mirkwood's palace would have been welcome. She would have even gladly received Sindatil's return, though she was secretly glad the Mirkwood Guard had been weakened. But there had never been any news from the four riders left behind. Their instructions were to remain for a week, sending a pair of elves further into the forest each day. If, by the seventh day, there was no sign of either elf nor beast, they were to return home. 

The Guard had heard Legolas give these instructions with a heavy heart. They knew it was right - the whole Guard could not risk it's survival by teasing fate and creeping so close to Dul-Guldur that they could almost smell it. If there was no sign of life after a week, they would be forced to accept it. There was no life left. 

With these cheerful thoughts pressing in on their hearts, the journey homeward was a silent one. Not even Astalder had broken the consistent mute shadow that had fallen upon the group, and though Seasa yearned for conversation -- _anything_ to distract her from her thoughts -- she was too proud to initiate conversation with anyone. 

The only real saving grace, Seasa though wryly as she pressed her forehead to the cool floor, realizing that it looked as though she were cowering when in reality she was only thinking, was the fact that she had been allowed to ride with Astalder instead of Legolas. In fact, the Prince hadn't so much looked at her since the night in the flet when she could feel his eyes on her -- but this past journey, not so much as a glance. It was suspicious, Seasa knew, and made her wary. 

She slowly unclenched her fists, noticing with dull amazement that her knuckles were white with fear. It was as if she was looking at this whole ordeal through another person's eyes; she could almost see herself shaking, see her body crouched upon the floor. She knew the Guard was assembled silently behind her; she knew they were awaiting their dismissal. Her robes were torn, and ragged and her hair -- though beautiful still, thanks to her Elven blood -- was a tangled mess of leaves and twigs. Dried blood crusted on her nails, and with a cringe she realized whose blood it was as she heard him take a step forward. His feet drew even with her bowed head now, and she heard the sharp tap of footsteps on the marble floor. 

She dared a peek upwards from where Legolas had crudely dumped her and drew a startled breath. 

Thranduil, King of Mirkwood stood not two feet in front of her, and she could feel a wave of fear rise in her throat, unsettling her stomach. She choked on her own breath as color fled her face. 

Thranduil sent her an uninterested glance, but his eyes lingered in her fearfully wide jade eyes. They brushed across her bloodstained fingers, taking in her torn robe as she froze. He could almost smell her fear, it was so tangible, but he dragged his glare away from her and let it settle on his only son. 

Thranduil hid a sigh. He was glad to see Legolas had returned safety, but from the stiff frown pressed in his face and the dead look in his eye, he could see his son had returned with bad news -- _ No,_ Thranduil corrected, _More bad news._ Lately, that was the only type of news the King received. _Spies are embedded in my court, spiders have threatened yet another village, Dol-Guldur is growing in strength.._ Thranduil sighed as he went through his mental checklist of horrific news that had reached him this week. If only things were different, if only elves had more allies in the world -- 

Legolas's slight cough cut him off from his day dream, and Thranduil's eyes snapped to his son's. He took in the long, thin scratches on his son's handsome face, and with a look of dawning comprehension, his eyes darted again to the dried blood on the terrified she-elf's hands. He frowned. 

"Prince Legolas," he said, his voice firm but tired. "Your return brings gladness to my heart in this time of gloom. What news have you brought from the outer regions of the forests?" It had been four long months since he had last seen his son -- it would have been shorter, but his son was called away to deal with news of a...

Spy. 

Thranduil's eyes shot down to the crumpled girl at his feet, the scars on Legolas's face, and back to the girl again. His brow furrowed and he took another slight step closer to his son and the girl. The girl recoiled. Legolas didn't flinch and Thranduil sighed. _ Things To Do,_ he mused inwardly. _Catch spy. **Check**_

"Dul-Guldor is growing stronger my lord, as you well know. Patches of Orcs are growing bolder and this segment of the Guard was recently attacked. Captain Sindatil and his men were sent ahead of the Orcs, closer to Dul-Guldor to make certain the Orcs were destroyed, but they hadn't returned by the hour it came for us to leave." Legolas's eyes moved to the dozens of civilian elves lined in the Hall, watching and listening to the official report and he dropped his voice. "The darkness is quicking, father. Never before have Orcs been so bold as to come so close to the Halls and attack the Guard." 

"Are there any serious injuries?" Thranduil asked with a sigh, taking dull note of how Legolas managed to avoid mentioning the captive cowering at their feet. Many of the Mirkwood's elves were gathered in the Halls, waiting for the official report and their minds, Thranduil could feel, rested heavily on this frightened girl. The thoughts of his people soon rose into words, and the Guard stiffened as the words, "She's a spy!" suddenly filtered through the hall, voiced by a foolish bystander. Legolas stoutly ignored the onlookers, but Seasa had heard and her whole body had begun to shake. Her eyes shut tightly, the faintest wisps of tears leaking out of them as she wrapped her arms around herself, waiting for Legolas to get to the part of the report about her and have her sentence -- death -- fall. 

Legolas shook his head. "No, your majesty. No serious injuries to report of." 

Thranduil nodded heavily, broaching the topic everyone was curious about. "And what of this girl? Has she been taken captive? What is her crime?" 

Legolas paused and the Guard shuffled with nerves. Many of them were impartial towards Seasa, but they knew her many charges and the many penalties awaiting her, and their hearts were saddened by such a waste of life. The civilian elves lined upon the walls, official members of Thranduil's court dressed in dark olives and forest greens, their light hair highlighted by the streak of sunlight dashing through the hall, pressed closer. Treachery, to them, was the most dangerous kind of evil -- other dangers they could at least identify. But if one of their own had turned towards darkness..and tried to take everyone with them..

Legolas's hand slipped into his pocket, his fingers wrapped around the glowing star charm. It glowed warm in his hand, and Legolas resisted the urge to shut his eyes and wish himself away from this scene. "We found her wandering in the forest a few days before we were to set home. We were on the lookout for spies, and naturally we took her into custody and questioned her. She claimed to merely be a wayward traveler, but something.." Legolas paused. "Something wasn't quite right, sir. We decided to bring her back to the Palace with us, but she escaped soon after her capture--" 

"Escaped?" Thranduil echoed, surprise in his strong face. "How?" 

Legolas's jaw tensed. "By telling us she had spotted a _lhug_, your highness. When we went to investigate, she slipped off." 

"Why wasn't someone watching her while others searched for the unfortunate beast?" Thranduil questioned, but his mouth twitched. Seasa dared another glance upward, figuring if they were talking about her, she had a right to know. She slowly unfurled herself from the tight ball she had been in, and her eyes lit upon the majesty of the halls. Though Mirkwood's Palace was indeed built inside of several overwhelmingly large caves, bright windows had been scratched into the rocks and brightly dressed couriers added sparkle to the hall. High, delicate ceilings were backed with strong wood beams, many having different decorations etched into the wood as they braced the marble ceiling. The main hall was overwhelmingly large, and towards the far end, Seasa could just make out among the cluster of curious elves, Thranduil's throne. Different passageways led off from the main Hall, probably to personal chambers of the Royal Family and their servants. Another large, well lit corridor led to the Feasting Halls, Seasa knew, and several other dim passageways had signs that told their destinations were the stables. 

Seasa sat back on her heels, unnoticed by the Prince and King, and her eyes widened. The resemblance between father and son was striking -- Legolas's eyes were a stormier shade of blue, and Thranduil's hair a deeper golden, but the high cheekbones, narrow face and strong forehead marked them clearly as closely related nobles. Thranduil was dressed in all his royal splendor, of course, in a light gray tunic with a circlet of golden leaves gracing his blonde locks. The King, graced with immortality, still held the body of a young one in his prime, but there was something in his eyes -- something deeper, something that spoke of wisdom acquired through age. Legolas, Seasa thought wryly, for a moment forgetting her fear as she studied the pair, could not contrast more. Besides the long scars on his elven face, which were healing quickly thanks to his elven blood, dirt and sweat mingled and dried on his forehead. His tunic, dark for camouflage's sake, was torn and filthy. Though the lithe young warrior was the epitome of strength and his father's appearance spoke volumes of his capability, the really striking thing that laced them together now was their exhaustion. It spoke from every line of their face and every moment of their body, and Seasa felt a slight pang of regret that she might have caused some of it. Then she pushed it away. Let him feel all the exhaustion he wants, she thought with spite, for soon I won't be able to feel at all. Meanwhile, Legolas was still talking. 

"..when we got news of Orcs by Old Forest Road--" This announcement caused several gasps in the watching crowds and Legolas frowned. His father had always felt it was best to share all of the ruler's knowledge with the people so they may be prepared in times of danger, which was why he insisted on formal public reports from the Guard before the ranks were transferred and those on active duty were relieved. But Legolas felt it often inspired unneeded panic, and he tore his eyes away from his father to shoot the crowd a dark glance. It quieted immediately and Astalder, just behind Legolas in ranking line, smirked. That look of Legolas's would spot the sun in it's tracks if used to its full power. Even the birds stopped singing when Legolas was displeased and let it show -- the normally reserved Prince did not usually show his displeasure to his subjects, however, and it warned them to be quiet. 

The Prince continued. "When we arrived at the Road, the Orcs had seemingly gone, but I sent Captain Sindatil ahead to chase after the Orcs. I could sense they were not yet far away and that some mischief was still planned, but I didn't know what. Astalder set up a perimeter and I took the interior. There were no Orcs in sight, but just as we relaxed our minds, our captive screamed out in warning." Legolas hesitated, but continued and Thranduil raised a brow. Why would a captive warn her captors of danger? "The forest surrounding the area," Legolas said, and his voice quieted, "was ruined. The forest was dead and our souls ached -- our minds were not as sharp. But the captive was still aware and her senses caught the Orcs just before the attack, and she chose to warn us rather then flee. It saved many lives." 

Thranduil's sharp eyes flew to Seasa's crumpled form, and he gestured to Astadler to have her stand. The elf moved swiftly, helping the kneeling girl to her feet. 

Seasa took a deep breath, exhaling quietly. She left her hands dangling limply by her side and Thranduil's eyes raked over her -- not just to peer at her appearance, but to peer into her soul. She raised her chin, slightly defiantly, and set her eyes cold. She looked a mess, she knew, but she wouldn't let it compromise her dignity. 

Thranduil moved directly in front of her, his eyes locked with her. She took an involentary step backwards, but Astalder placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her forwards again. 

"What is your name?" Thranduil asked quietly, his voice firm. Seasa's eyes flickered towards the windows and the open doors -- her only means of escape, but Thranduil saw her gaze and shook his head slightly. His voice was still kind as he warned gently, "Don't try it. Your name?" 

Seasa's eyes flickered to Legolas, who was regarding her impassively. In her mind's eye, she heard this question being asked of her, a seemingly long time ago.   
_'What is your name?' the Prince had asked impatiently. 'Silent one', She had replied mockingly. 'Do you think this is a joke?' he had asked furiously._  
And she did, kind of. The reality of her situation had never truly hit her, never truly until right now. Something flickered in Legolas's eyes and she knew he was remembering as well. 

Thranduil was still waiting calmly. "Seasa, Your Majesty," she replied in a choked voice. 

"Seasa," Thranduil echoed. "Where are you from, Seasa?" 

Seasa's head snapped towards Legolas and she took a startled step backwards and when Astalder pushed her forwards again, she resisted. Her eyes fell to her feet, her face flushed and her eyes wild with fear as she struggled to stay away from the King. Her reaction didn't surprise Thranduil, who turned back to his son with a tired expression. "Continue with your story, Prince Legolas," he said with a sigh. "Like I was saying sir," Legolas continued immediately, "she saved many lives but when she realized I had taken--" Legolas broke off, then continued. "I had confiscated a token of hers and when she realized it, she attacked me out of hate." Thranduil frowned, reaching forward to gently touch the long, flesh colored marks on his son's face. "Are these her work?" he asked and Legolas nodded. Thranduil didn't reply and Legolas continued, his fingers wrapped around the necklace in his pocket. "We set out the next day to return to the Palace. There has been no further disturbances from the captive." 

Seasa was still struggling against Astalder's tight grip, and Legolas sent her a dangerous look. She stopped and Astalder smirked. Thranduil shook his head, but frowned. "I do not understand then; what evidence do you have of her guilt?"

The questioned echoed through the Halls, silent now at the Prince's unspoken bidding. No one spoke, no one moved at all, save for Seasa's brokenhearted struggles which she renewed with vigor as Thranduil asked the question. 

For a moment, it looked as though Legolas wouldn't reply. A muscle was working in his throat, the tan skin rapidly tightening as his eyes hardened. Finally, Legolas withdrew his hand from his pocket and held out the dangling star jewel. The light caught it and thousands of intense beams shot out from it, sending Legolas and Thranduil's face into a world of different colors. 

Legolas's eyes were glued to his father's face and Seasa stopped her desperate struggling, Astalder's arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders to fearfully gauge Thranduil's reaction. 

No one moved for a moment, Thranduil's gaze locked on the tiny jewel. He was thinking -- Seasa could see he was putting things together -- and suddenly his eyes widened. His mouth dropped open and his jaw hardened. His eyes flashed towards Seasa -- anger radiating from his very being -- he blanched, then flushed with rage. 

No one said anything for a moment before Thranduil went to speak, but couldn't. Fury had so clogged his throat that he had to take several calming breaths before he could attempt to give a reply. All the gratitude and pleased surprise he had been feeling a minute ago rapidly morphed into shocked hate and startled rage. All from that one necklace, dangling from the emerald ribbon. 

His hardened gaze caught Seasa and she shivered, dreading the next words he knew she was destined to speak. 

"Throw her in the dungeons," he said harshly, a sadistic smirk in his eyes as he watched the color fade from her being. Gone was the civil calmness and understanding from his voice; now it was harsh, sharp, mocking. "I'll deal with the arrangements for her execution later." To her, he spat, "Let your father come for you." 

And he turned and swept away. 

Seasa stared at him, as he raised a finger and gestured to Astalder and two of the palace guards. "Take her away," he spat and their grip on her tightened. "Legolas, dismiss the Guards. We'll place the other on active duty later." Thranduil's parting order was followed out immediately, the Guards rushing out of the Hall and towards their families -- they were not eager to see Seasa taken away. 

Legolas hesitated, his heart fit to burst as he watched Seasa fight back the Guards. She was screaming, but the elves in the Hall were laughing at her. "Foolish spy!" they mocked. "Did you truly think you could fool our King!" 

Seasa screamed, long and wailing, abandoning all dignity for fear. To be thrust into a dark, damp hole in the ground -- no doubt away from all sky and earth and light. It would kill her before they could -- 

She paused at the thought, and tucked it away. Not a bad idea, but she was more preoccupied. She braced her arms against her captors, who were now resorting to dragging her towards one of the unmarked hallways. Her eyes caught Legolas's, who, despite himself, couldn't help but watch. "Please!" She screamed. "Have mercy, mercy! Give me another chance!" She let out a long, blood curling scream, tears bursting from her eyes like rain from a cloud as more elves began to laugh. One of the meager palace guards grew frustrated with her screams and random punches, her desperate attempt to escape and raised his hand as if to strike her. Seasa didn't cower, but Astalder hollered, "Don't!" just as the blow was about to fall. The palace guard stopped mid-air, scowling but Astadler shot him a dirty look. "Don't you dare," he spat over Seasa's screams and pleas for mercy. "Please!" she yelled, her eyes latched on Legolas. Her desperation echoed admist the laughs and cheers of the crowd. "I'll reform, I'll serve -- I'll do _anything_!" 

Legolas's was annoyed to see that he was shaking from emotion and he crossed his arms angrily. But he could not tear his eyes from hers, their beautiful jade depths awash with fear. "Mercy," she was saying, "please..." 

But Astalder had gotten her out of the Hall, away from the amused eyes of the crowd. They were going towards the dungeons -- the lowest ones, Legolas knew, as they were reserved for betrayers and mutineers. They were the darkest, the dumpiest, the smallest -- fit, it seemed, for traitors. But her screams echoed off the of the walls, still pleading for mercy. Legolas turned away from the crowd, rubbing his eyes with his hands. But that image was frozen in his mind -- Seasa's jade green eyes, terrified, frozen with fear..fear inspiried by him. 


	13. Kingdom

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Author's Notes: *Sigh* I don't understand you people. First, I get yelled at for not updating..then I update, and only one person reviews! I cried myself to sleep, I really did.   
Okay, no I didn't, but I could have. Now don't you feel guilty? But have no fear, for I have the answer -- _ Review! _

-------------------- _  
Catch me as i fall   
Say you're here and it's all over now  
- Evanescence _  
-------------------------

Seasa's eyes flickered shut as they closed the heavy metal gates. Old tears dried on her cracked lips, sliding off her chin -- evidence of her complete breakdown. The guards snapped the bars shut with a satisfied click, as a second pair of bars slid shut with a definite clang, and she shivered. She could sense they were still there -- Astalder, probably -- but she couldn't bear to face them. Exhausted tears still leaked out from her tightly shut lids, and she hung her head, ashamed. Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned away, facing the shadows of the darkness of her cell. She waited until she heard them walk away, their footsteps slowly fading into echoes. Slowly, trying desperately to regain control, she exhaled, dropping her arms to her side. With a faint sigh, she opened her eyes, then immeaditely snapped them shut again. She couldn't believe this was her fate. _This_. Wearily, she opened her eyes once more, waiting for her eyesight to adjust to the gloomy darkness. 

All it took was one look. It took all her self control to stop the bile that rose in her throat, the gag reflex triggering in her system. She clutched her stomach, bending over as she took several loud, exhausted breaths. _ Not this. _. 

"Stop it Seasa," she muttered to herself, her voice catching. "Open your eyes. It can't be that bad.." 

With only the faintest worry that she was talking to herself, Seasa opened her eyes, and then couldn't help but cringe. "Okay," she affirmed. "So it **is** that bad." 

She forced a last puff of air into her lungs, said a quiet prayer -- _ was anyone listening ? _ -- for strength, and opened her eyes. 

Dim, dusty gray light filtered through the miniature window perched in highest corner of the cell. It was smaller then even she expected -- but then again, she was a betrayer. It was funny how her conscience had never registered that before. The word had just suddenly floated across her mind now. She paused. Then she ignored it, continuing to study the place that would be her home until Thranduil set the date for her execut-- 

She abruptly stopped the thought, instead choosing to walk over to a decaying wooden bench -- the only fixture in the room. Guessing from the sheet haphazardly thrown over it, and the deflated pillow squashed under the bench's legs, it must serve as a bed as well. She ran a finger over the dusty sheet, her hand coming away covered in a fine gray film. She wrinkled her nose, and with a helpless sigh, eased herself down onto the dirty floor of the cell. She leaned her head back against the wall -- a spider dangled from the ceiling, performing age-old gymnastics on the fine silver strand dangling from the dark, unlimited depths of gloom above her. The cell was higher then it was longer; she couldn't even see the actual ceiling, but she imagined it was filled with other spider-like creatures. _You better get used to them,_ she thought with a sigh as she tucked her chin into her knees. She as afraid to climb onto the bench, as it didn't look as it would hold her, so she shivered on the grubby dirt floor. _ The spiders may soon be all you have. _

The sun was setting outside her window, darkness infiltrating into the already present gloom of her cell. She dropped her head into her hands, and unwillingly, a single thought slithered across her mind. _ What would Ada say if he could see me now? _

The thought brought another comment to mind, thundering in her ears and she tiredly brushed a stray strand of hair from her frightened eyes. 'Let your father come for you!', Thranduil had spat. Spoken with such hatred, such sadistic pleasure..he had enjoyed watching the color drain from her face, enjoyed watching her knees buckle and watching her nearly swoon with fear. He had _enjoyed_ it. Thranduil had, at first, seemed like a kindly old uncle -- patient, regal, and wise. The gratitude she had seen in his eyes as he learned of her daring move to warn the Guard before it was too late haunted her. That a captive would do good by her captors clearly startled him. 

Seasa wished feverishly now that she had never done it. For then she wouldn't have ever seen the necklace in Legolas's pocket, never would have been consumed by the fiery rage that compelled her to attack like an uncivilized beast..

The transformation when the King had seen evidence of her identity was startling. 'Throw her in the dungeons!' He had ordered ruthlessly, no trace of mercy in the stark lines of his face. She had heard someone say once that one good deed was not enough to atone for a life time of wickedness, and apparently in this case, it was true. However, it seemed enough to condemn one. 

Seasa stared blankly into the gathering dark, her soul weighing upon her heart. And she began to get angry. 

How else could she feel? She was emotionally spent! Her -- shall we call it, episode -- in Thranduil's Hall had dragged all the tears, despair, and hopelessness out of her system. She couldn't cry anymore -- she couldn't even scream. The minute her guards had dragged her out of the light, and into the narrow passages leading down to the dungeons buried deepest in the caverns, away from the forest and the brightest pockets of the area, it was like something in her had died. _Died. _

She was an elf. She couldn't be without light, without air..without stars. 

Never before had she truly longed for their twinkling light, for their hopeful glimmer..She had never truly noticed their beauty before, not until now, now when she needed them most. She needed them to reignite that flame -- that spark -- inside her, that flicker of light that had dimmed with every step she took towards her cell, towards her death. _ Death. _ Seasa couldn't help but snicker slightly. Death? Who needed death? She was already dying, dying a slow, agonizing death, drowning in her own emotions, drowning in the darkness. 

Seasa's head suddenly straightened up. She was dying anyway, wasn't she? 

_ Yes. _ Her self conscience answered defiantly. _ I am. _

She paused. Then why not do it on ** her own ** terms? 

"I'll deal with the arrangements for her execution later." Arrangements? Was the whole kingdom going to turn up to watch her hanged? Or would they make it less dramatic -- an arrow in the heart? In front of only the nobility of the Kingdom? 

Seasa scoffed. The darkness was beginning to muddle her thoughts -- she needed to see sky, stars. It wasn't that she hadn't see them for this amount of time -- wasn't that she hadn't been outside for this amount of time, because for an elf, she was unusually not in tune with nature. But the very thought of knowing she _ couldn't_ see them, even if she needed to, bothered her. Elves draw their strength from their surroundings, but her surroundings had all the life of a grave yard. 

She shook her head. What was she thinking about? Oh, yes. Death. _ Hers. _ Would they slowly starve her to death? Let her waste away to skin and bones? Or perhaps they would stone her -- letting each member of community throw at her, as they all would have been harmed by her deeds. It didn't matter. Either way, she was dead. 

She sighed. From this point on, she was a dead soul. She raised her eyes to the window, and a deep, slow breath worked its way past her lips. She was going to die -- _why not do it on her own terms?_

Elves can die of battle, they can die of poison, they can die of starvation. ** And they can die of heartbreak. **

Seasa glanced up at the window, her eyes latching on to the thick, silver moon that was perched in the inky sky. There were no stars visible -- but she hadn't expected there to be. She didn't believe in stars anymore anyway. She closed her eyes tightly - and felt her spirit begin to flee.

-------------------- 

Legolas rubbed his fingers into his temple, his head thrown back against the light silk of the plush pillows and sheets. His gaze unfocused slightly, as sleep slowly crept up and began to creep into his gaze, as elves sleep with their eyes open. But immediately, he jerked awake, his gaze at once alert and aggravated. Every time he slipped into the world of dreams, he could hear a scream. Pleading. Imploring. Begging. 

For mercy. A pure and simple concept. But it was compassion he could not afford to give. Give the spies, the traitors a mere inch, and they would stretch it into a mile. A mile lost now would mean the kingdom lost, and though his heart may sometimes scream in protest, the kingdom must come first. 

He was a Prince of the royal house of Mirkwood. His father was King, and the lord of these lands. It was his duty to protect his people – he didn't choose this role, this life. He was born into it. 

The kingdom must come first. 

Legolas shut his eyes from the pounding headache that throbbed beneath his fingertips. Every muscle was tensed as he lay in the darkened bed chamber. Shadows were born and lengthened upon the brightly painted walls; beneath his sweaty fingers, the silk of his emerald sheets felt rough and coarse. The pillow beneath his head was as soft as a rock, and the large, beech chests and wardrobes, filled to the brim with his prized passions – his first bow, his father's dagger, his mother's favorite flowers, pressed into a book of the history of Mirkwood forest, the first arrow he ever shot – all seemed to be mocking his discomfort now. The spacious room seemed to shrink in that one instant; the cheerful, sinking sun that had cast the room in a golden glue withered and turned into ash. His room seemed gray now – even the brightly painted pictures. The vivid turquoise colors that made up the painting of the sea Legolas would one day sail wilted into a faded backdrop; the brilliant greens of the forests poking in through his open balconey lost their feveor. The bright flowing chestnut manes of glorious horses in the wooden etchings above his bed diminished into floppy brown strands; the intense brightness of seven stars, and one white tree, portrayed on a flowing tapestry, died, . 

Legolas was drowning, drowning in his own emotions, in his own guilt. 

The kingdom must come first. 

But who in the kingdom was she hurting?! Yes, she was Valneuma's own daughter. Yes, she belonged to the forbidden village of Single Star, buried deep in the forest – right next to Dol-Guldur. Yes, she wore the necklace of legend, the necklace that the single star dangled off of. Yes. She was the heir to Valneuma's wasted life. 

But what of that was her? What of that was her choice? What of that was not her father – her father's doing? 

She didn't choose that life. She was born into it. 

Legolas froze, the unspoken phrase sounding eerily familiar as it circled around in his befuddled mind. 

_ I didn't choose this life,_ Legolas thought. _ I was born into it._. Legolas sat up, and swung his feet over the side of the canopied bed, his thoughts reeling. Her situation could have easily been his. 

Her father sent her to spy on an enemy. As a dutiful daughter, she complied. 

His father sent him to catch a spy of the enemy. As a dutiful son, he complied. 

She began to feel sorry for her actions, to worry if she was taking the right course. She warned them before their lives, the lives of the best warriors of her enemies, were taken. 

He began to wonder if she was truly guilty; he instructed his men to treat her with kindness. He tried to ease her nerves with gentle banter and quiet conversation. 

Then he turned her over to his father. As she would have done with him. 

Their situations were suddenly so alike it was startling; and yet, she would suffer the ultimate sacrifice. Why? For being someone's daughter? What had she, herself, done? Beside the attack on him of course. He frowned. But then the decision to execute her should come from him, not his father!

She was an elf. Blessed with eternal life. Blessed with a divine connection to the earth, the sea, the stars. And now she was taken away from all of that, thrown into the darkest pit his father could find. 

For what? Being someone's daughter? And why did he stand by and let this happen, when he knew the crime she herself committed deserved a punishment much less severe – because he was someone's son? 

------------------

Legolas bounded out of his room, hurrying through the well-lit corridor. He had to speak to his father, to make him see – Seasa didn't deserve to die! She couldn't very well be set free, though. She had seen enough of the palace – she probably even knew where the armory was by now. But her parting words rung in his head – "Mercy! Mercy! I'll do _anything_!" Perhaps she could become a servant of sorts, bound eternally to the Palace and the royal family. That was better than death, surely---

Legolas hastily turned the corner, deciding to cut through the Great Halls when the doors leading out to the main courtyard slammed open. At first, there was nothing there but darkness, and Legolas frowned – since when do the main gates open by themselves? But then something moved in the doorway, something came into the light and Legolas froze, stopping dead in his tracks, halfway across the great hall. 

Aragorn grinned, Elladan and Elrohir flanking him on either side. Dark streaks of mud, and faint specs of blood splattered the human's young, smiling face, but Elrohir and Elladan looked a bit more forbidding. 

"Aragorn?" Legolas breathed, and the human let out a bark of a laugh, leaving his adopted brothers standing motionless at the door and bounding towards his long-time friend. 

"Legolas! Mellon nin! We came as soon as we could---"

But Legolas was just shaking his head, a wide smile stretched across his exhausted features. Several servants who were tidying up the Hall for the next day paused to watch the reunion. 

Legolas grasped his friend's shoulder tightly, smiling into his friend's young silver eyes. Aragorn returned the gesture, squeezing his friend's arm with a reassuring look. "It has been too long, my friend," the human whispered, his young eyes excited at the sight of his friend, but it could not mask the worry veiled in his gaze. 

Some of the servants muttered. Humans were not truly well liked in Mirkwood's palace, but Legolas and Aragorn's past was generally well known. 

Lord Elrond of Rivendell and Thranduil King of Mirkwood have always had their differences. The Last Great Alliance of Men and Elves had severed the gap between the two elven kingdoms – Mirkwood had not wanted to enter the war, but at the prompting of Rivendell, finally lent her skills. Despite the wonder of Mirkwood's Guard and their supreme skill, however, Mirkwood elves wore no armor and suffered great causalities. Mirkwood had never truly forgiven Rivendell, and Thranduil had never truly forgiven Elrond. Mirkwood's dislike of strangers, in especially humans, only increased over the years, so when the news reached Thranduil's ears that Elrond was adopting a misfit human child, somehow distantly related to the half-elf, Thranduil had been furious. Communication between the two kingdoms all but stopped. 

But nevertheless, the child had grown in spirit and in statue, and as time went on, he began to long for independence. Humans are all embedded with that longing to roam, that inability to settle down and it took hold of young Aragorn – or Estel, as his elven name was – when he was just a young man. He roamed into Mirkwood, though warned by his adoptive father not to, and stumbled on the Crown Prince of Mirkwood. 

Suspicion raged on both sides; Legolas was wary of this strange human who spoke elven with such perfection, and Aragorn wondered at the cool aloofness from an elf, as elves are normally friendly. They parted ways, and gladly - Legolas left the young man with a few strong words of warning about the danger of Mirkwood; Aragorn left him with a few strong warnings of what haughtiness will do to you. They didn't see each other again for three days. Then, one day, Legolas was making his way home. He was only on a brief scouting mission, a solo mission, and he longed for company. It was time to return to the Palace, where servants knew their place and humans spoke with respect for the superior elven race. So muddled in his thoughts was he, that Legolas let his guard down. And after that day, the young elf would never again criticize the human race. 

Legolas had never had a warning -- just the faint, low growl of a warg before it charged. 

There was nothing Legolas could do -- he spun, but the sharp jaws of wolf-like animal had clamped tightly down on his neck, dangerously close to his throat, and the animal was dragging him down to the ground. Desperately, Legolas flailed, trying to get the warg to present a hittable target. But as he struggled, Orcs -- the warg's masters -- appeared out of the forest, materializing with hasty speed, their velocity increased with the delight of finally catching an elf to play with. Fear had filled the young Prince's eyes -- he was skilled in battle, but he was on his knees, the warg bending him backwards as the animal tried to tear his throat apart. It was all he could do to continue jabbing the animal to keep it from succeeding, and he could not protect himself from the Orcs. 

Aragorn watched, perched high in a tree, his face creased with worry. He had seen neither orc nor warg, but he had seen the Prince. Legolas had been muttering to himself about 'stupid humans', and Aragorn was just thinking up a nice streak of dwarfish curses to send off when out of the forest came a heart-stopping growl. 

The human took one look at the fray below him, the large number of Orcs and considered what the odds were that he would escape this battle alive. Slim to none were his options, and with that settled, Aragorn quickly unsheathed his sword and jumped. 

It was over in a matter of minutes. Aragorn's first order of business had been to slaughter the troublesome warg, and once Legolas was standing -- and recovered from his shock, as it isn't every day human saviors drop from trees -- he was a deadly fighting machine. Orc after orc went down, and the pair was amazed to see just how well they worked together. It took less than an hour to kill off the large party of orcs, and when they stopped, victorious, they took one look at each other's messy, bloody, exhausted faces and laughed. 

And they had been friends ever since. 

Now, Legolas grinned at the young human, raising an amused brow. "You are well met indeed, my friend. I am desperately in need of council." 

"What is it?" Aragorn asked immediately, and the pair started walking unconsciously back towards Legolas's suite. Aragorn always stayed in the adjoining guest rooms, but a cough from behind them stopped them. 

Legolas grinned sheepishly at the twin sons of Elrond, who now moved further into the hall. Both were covered in dirt and sweat, and both looked exhausted. "Nice to see you too, Prince Legolas," Elladan said wryly at their dry reception. Legolas flushed, leaving Aragorn's side and walking over to embrace Elrond's sons. He had met the twins after he had met Aragorn but their wit, gentleness, and intelligence had greatly impressed him. Almost identical, but not quite, the two elves were exceptionally close. With their wide gray eyes, dark hair and fair skin, they looked a lot like their father -- yet their was a mischievous sparkle in their gaze that Lord Elrond often lacked. 

"I'm sorry, my friends. You know you are more than welcome, and I am greatly pleased to see you all. Please, some of the servants --" Legolas looked up, raised a commanding brow and immediately, two young stewards who weren't truly doing anything materialized, "-- will be happy to show you to your regular rooms. My father will be greatly pleased to see you all come the morrow. Have you brought any new information from your father?" 

The twins shook their heads in unison. "No. Father -- Lord Elrond," Elrohir amended, attempting to remain professional, "sent only his prayers and hopes. There is no new news, which in reality, is good news." 

"Well said." Legolas allowed with a smile. "I'm sure we all have much to discuss, but let us converse over breakfast tomorrow. I just returned to the Palace from my rounds with the Guards this morning." 

Elrohir nodded. "Yes. It's been a long day and a long trip. Indeed, we have much to discuss, but nothing so pressing it cannot wait 'till morning." 

Legolas nodded. "Enjoy your stay here, my friends. My heart gladdens at the very sight of you." The twins nodded, returning the polite sentiments, dark bags in their fair faces betraying their true desire to shut up and sleep. With his other guests taken care of, Legolas and Aragorn returned to Legolas's chamber. 

Aragorn changed out of his ranger's garb and into the spare clothes he always kept at Mirkwood's palace -- his visits were always frequent and usually unplanned. Legolas, in turn, also kept many of his spare things in his regular chambers in Rivendell. Both were amazed at how well their friendships had continued, but there was a bond between them; they understood each other well. 

Aragorn materialized in Legolas's chamber, his mind questioning. 

"How did your rounds with the Guard go?" he asked, his light silver eyes curious. Aragorn had completed several rounds as a honorary member of the Mirkwood Guard and knew the trials and routines. 

Legolas shrugged. "As well as can be expected. We met with unforeseen complications, and there was a large group of Orcs by Old Forest Road. They stopped there, however, but I called you here because the Palace is vulnerable. I assumed, if you were willing, you and I could ride out and reconfirm the capital's protections against attack. My heart is uneasy; I feel the Orcs are too bold." 

Aragorn nodded instantly, his dark locks falling into his face. Time had strengthened the boy's face into a man's, and one unusually skilled in battle. He raised a dark brow. "What unforeseen complications?" 

Legolas shot him a grim look. "A spy." 

"A elven spy?" 

Legolas nodded; "It was as your father predicted." 

Aragorn's brow furrowed. "You took him captive?" 

Legolas sighed. "No. We took _her_ captive." 

"Her?" Aragorn echoed, surprised. "That's enlightening." 

Legolas continued, eager to listen to Aragorn's point of veiw. 

"Not just a she. Valneuma's daughter." 

Aragorn's clear gray eyes widened. He knew who Valneuma was and everything that entailed. "You have her here in the palace?" 

"The lower dungeons." 

"The *lower* dungeons?" Aragorn echoed, then whistled through his teeth. "She's in for a difficult night." Legolas sighed. "I know. And the issue that worries me is I'm not sure she deserves it." Legolas quickly filled his friend in on Seasa's action and his newfound conclusions. "...I was on my way to talk to my Father when you arrived." 

Aragorn was silent a few minutes, then sighed. "I wouldn't approach your father just yet, nin mellon. I understand your attentions are honorable, but offering her an eternity of servitude in return for death might not be a deal she's willing to take -- if she's as you described her. And you run the risk of infuriating your father even more and having him speed up the execution date." 

Legolas sighed, running a hand through his golden locks. "I suppose. But you agree with me that the punishment does not fit the crime?" 

Aragorn hesitated. If she was indeed a spy, then Aragorn couldn't help but think she deserved whatever she got. But wisely observing the look in his friend's eye and the worried crease of his brow, he chose not to say this. He didn't know how and he didn't know why, but something about this girl -- this _spy_ -- had gotten under his friends skin. He took a breath and flashed hs friend a weak smile. 

"I trust your judgement, my friend." He said carefully. 

"If you say she deserves life, she deserves life." 

Legolas frowned, dropping his head into his hands. "I don't know," he sighed. "I just...don't know." 


	14. As You Wish

"False face must hide what false heart doth know."

"And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,  
The instruments of darkness tell us truths,  
Win us with honest trifles, to betray 's  
In deepest consequence." 

"When our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.".

-From Shakespear's _ Macbeth _  
-----------------------

Legolas glanced over his shoulder warily. Had he heard something? He paused, his eyes narrowing into the darkness behind him. There was no one there -- _ and good thing too, _ Legolas thought, _ Or I'd have a fun time explaining why exactly the Crown Prince of Mirkwood is sneaking around the old servant's stairways and supply venues_. Sending a last penetrating glance at the shadows behind him, Legolas turned back around, shivering. 

He had never liked these passageways, even as a child. There was a series of tunnels underneath Thranduil's Halls which servants used to shuffle supplies back and forth from Feasting Rooms to the kitchens. There was another passageway that led to the river, if Legolas remembered correctly, and if his calculations were correct, the one he was on led to the..dungeons. They were rarely used by the Royal family, or nobility -- they were more of a 'behind-the-scenes-' set of passageways, which was why they were stone, narrow, and poorly lit. Legolas cringed. A little too much like a cave for his liking. He paused, lost in his thoughts as he wondered what exactly he thought he was doing, until a soft chuckle reached his ears and he spun around, his blond hair whipping around in the narrow stone hallway. 

Aragorn chuckled, his gray eyes kind. "You seem on edge, my friend." 

Legolas exhaled sharply. "I did not see you there," he said sharply, and Aragorn raised his brows slightly at the flippant response. They were in a dark passageway, the only light Legolas's faint glow and the dim glow from the window several hundred feet away. It was the next morning, but after another sleepless night, Legolas was irritable. He didn't mean to take it out on his friend, however, and with a sigh, he gave the human a half smile. "My apologies, nin mellon. My temper seems to have shortened of late." 

Aragorn returned the smile. "I can tell. And apology accepted. But I would like to know what in Valar's name we are doing here..." his voice trailed off as his eyes flickered over the damp stones, the endless path, and Legolas's tense posture. He paused. "Where is here, may I ask?" 

Legolas chuckled. "We're using the servant's passages. One leads to the river, one to the forest, one to the armory, one to the kitchen and one to the--" 

"Dungeon," Aragorn finished with a glimmer in his eye. "Ah, now it all makes sense. May I ask why we are here before the cock crows and the sun fully rises? And, while I'm asking questions -- may I ask why you snuck out this morning without my presence? I've heard much about this spy, and if I am correct in guessing that is where we are going, I am coming with you whether or not you like it or not." 

Legolas sighed, and began to move forward again. As they moved down the passageway in compatible silence, Legolas frowned. "You know me too well, my friend. I am sorry I did not include you in my earlier plans -- I meant to meet up with you after we broke our fast. I should have known you would have planned otherwise." 

"Yes," Aragorn agreed. "That was supreme stupidity on your part." 

The elf threw his friend a look and Aragorn grinned, but Legolas did not return the smile. 

"Legolas! I do not understand! Why the persistent scowl?!" 

Legolas's pace quickened as the light in the passageway brightened. The sun was rising outside the palace walls, and he wanted to reach the captive before the guards made their morning rounds of the dungeons. "Because, mellon nin, I feel as if this elf's life rests on my soul." 

Aragorn heaved a sign, reaching out and slightly patting Legolas's shoulder. The comforting gesture made the elf pause, and he stared quizzically at his friend. The human's face was unnaturally solemn, and his eyes captured his friend's as he spoke. "Legolas, whatever happens to this elf -- this _spy_," he stressed, " know that it is not your fault. She choose her path and now must follow it through. You can only do so much to help her see where she is wrong, but you cannot take responsibility for her actions, nor can you undermine their severity. Legolas, had her plans succeeded, you would be dead now -- as would your father and many of your people. I do not agree that she deserves death, but she does not deserve to have you share the consequences either." 

Something flickered in Legolas's eyes. Was it reason fleeing from their sapphire depths? Aragorn wasn't sure, but his friend's reaction startled him. Legolas jerked back, his face forced into a mask of polite annoyance. "Thank you for your counsel, Aragorn," Legolas said coolly, taking two steps away from his friend and further down the corridor. He did not turn around to see the baffled look on Aragorn's face, but felt his friend's eyes bearing into his back. "But I no longer wish to discuss the captive's future with you." 

Aragorn's expression registered the insult and the polite dismissal, but he recovered well. Only his silver eyes, now brimming with confusion, showed how hurt he really was. He didn't understand why Legolas would react this way to his advice, which had good intentions. There was something about this captive -- something about this spy that made Legolas feel increasingly possessive and protective. Aragorn didn't know why, but he did know he didn't like it. 

The silence strutted in the corridor, broken only by their soft footsteps. Aragorn ducked his head down, still determinedly following his friend. He wasn't sure where the Prince was taking him, but with Legolas's attitude and emotions as strained as they seemed to be right now, the human was too good of a friend to leave him alone, despite how rude Legolas might be. 

The Prince turned around, and his eyes locked on Aragorn. The human had his head ducked down, his eyes never straying from the floor. "Estel?" Legolas prompted. 

Aragorn raised his head slightly, encouraged by Legolas's use of the human's elvish name. "Yes, Legolas?" 

"Did you hear what I said?" 

Aragorn's eyes bore into Legolas's, and this time, he didn't look away. "Yes, your highness. As you wish." 


	15. Laughter

Legolas eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the lower dungeons, but Aragorn, behind him, paused a moment to let his eyes accustom themselves to the gloom. Legolas, feeling slightly remorseful for his earlier sharp words and now suddenly uneasy that they were here, waited for his human friend. "All is well?" he asked after a moment. Aragorn replied softly. "Yes, my lord. All is well." 

The simple phrase, 'my lord' sent a pang through Legolas; Aragorn's heritage and lineage was just as noble, if not more, then Legolas's own and they had both designated to never put on 'airs' with one and other. With the simple use of the phrase, 'my lord,' Aragorn was subtly letting his friend know that Legolas was overstepping his boundaries 

But apologies and explanations could come later; from the miniature window in the first cell next to him, the Prince could see the sun was rising. The guards would be making rounds soon. 

With an impassive look at Aragorn, Legolas began to cautiously move down the hallway. He didn't glance into any of the cells until they came to the last at the end of the row; pausing, he hesitated, then glanced inside. 

A sharp intake of breath alerted Seasa to a visitors arrival, but she was too tired to even lift her head. Sprawled on the damp floor instead of the cot provided for her, her dress and robe were flung out, bright colors in a gray world. Her dark hair, usually glossy even when littered with twigs and dust had lost much of its shine as it curled under her. Her cheeks had lost their flush and her lips there color; her eyes were shut and she would it they stayed that way. She was curled up, her knees to her chin, and her hand playing host to two spiders as they rested from a long nights work of catching dinner. 

Legolas was at a loss for words. His eyes riveted on her face. That glow, that faint unearthly glow all elves have about them...hers was fading. 

Aragorn noticed it as well. He had not spent his life around elves without learning a thing or two, and at the stricken look on Legolas's fair face, he took a step forward, wrapping his fingers around the cool bars. "My lady?" 

There was no sign that she had heard him at all, no sign that she was alive even other then the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Finally, she replied, her voice surprisingly steady, "Your voice is not one I have heard before. Are you a new guard?" 

"If you would but open your eyes you would see I am not," Aragorn replied swiftly. 

"Ah, but that requires strength and I have precious little of that left. Your accent is strange; you speak the High Tongue of the elves, but there is something..you are not from Mirkwood, I know." 

Aragorn kept his gray eyes on Legolas, who had yet to speak. The elf still looked so shocked that Seasa had chosen this graceful measure of suicide to escape her fate that he didn't seem to be able to form a word, but Aragorn had heard enough about this elf to know that perhaps goading her into an argument would be the best way to get her attention. 

"Nay, Lady, you are as clever as you are fair; I am of Rivendell." 

She chuckled. "Flattery, is that what this has come too? I do not know many elves who would call me fair as I look now; I know what is happening to me, I chose it consciously. If I go before I see his Royal Highness, you may thank him for me and tell him his mercy is no longer wanted, this fair lady has taken matters into her own hands." 

"I beg pardon, Lady, but I disagree. Your voice is too strong, your conviction too firm to wish to take the cowardly way out of a punishment you may well deserve." 

"A coward?!" she exclaimed in surprise, as if the idea had never occurred to her. Her eyes flickered, but she stubbornly refused to open them. "You are too bold, Elf of Rivendell. You are dismissed, I am tired." 

Aragorn's muffled laugh brought a quirky smile to her lips, but she forced it away. "And so what if you tire? What are you saving energy for? This new endeavor you are going on needs not strength, but weakness, not courage, but fear. And I d believe you have all of that, my lady." 

Seasa could stand it now longer and she sat up, her eyes opened furiously. "Well, I never--" but she stopped dead, her eyes riveted on Aragorn, who had to work to hide his smile. "A human," she whispered, her eyes wide with shock. Her gaze darted back to Legolas, who had recovered from his shock and in a flash, remembered the prejudice that had been installed in Seasa towards humans. "Lady Seasa, may I present Estel of Rivendell?" he put in firmly. "He is a guest in my palace and a dear friend." 

Seasa didn't reply, but slowly scooted further back into the cell, her back against the wall. After a moment, she replied, "I should have known. No elf would have dared call me a coward, elves are too well-bred for that." Aragorn could not hide his startled laugh, and even Legolas allowed himself to smile. If she only knew Aragorn's breeding! 

She scoffed. "I am glad I amused you, Your Highness and his saucy friend. But I am done entertaining royalty for today. Leave me." 

"My lady, much to your displeasure, you are not in a position to order anyone around and we did not come here to be entertained. We came purely to speak with you, to talk about your future. You startled me when we came upon you ready to leave Middle Earth. Why are you taking such a drastic path?" 

She leaned back further, her face cast in shadow but she replied, her voice so soft Aragorn had to strain to hear it. "I will not be put to death to entertain Mirkwood. My head shall not be a trophy to be sent home to my father. I am already dead in the King's eyes, I will leave Middle Earth on my own terms. And there is nothing you can do to stop me." 

"Stop you?" Aragorn put in before Legolas could silence him. "Why in Valar's name would we want to do that? You are a spy, and a traitor to the crown. If you had your way, Legolas, the King, and all those loyal to the royal family would be dead by now! Why should we care how you are killed, as long as the end result is the same?" 

Silence answered them, before she replied in a dangerous voice. "Surely, you should not care. Which is why I wonder at your presence? I wonder, does the King know his royal son has come to exchange words with the lowest of traitors? And you, Estel of Rivendell -- I am no fool and neither is the King. You may hide behind an elvish name and an elvish home, but you are human in body if not in soul. I am not the only one who bears ill will towards your race. I am sure the King will not be pleased to see you here." 

"Silence!" Legolas ordered harshly, his voice firm. "You speak of things you do not know. Estel's breeding is higher then yours, and anyone you will ever meet. You are too ignorant to be told his true heritage, but I say to you, you shall speak to him with respect. Estel is forever welcomed in the Mirkwood Palace and he knows it." 

"If he knows it," Seasa answered swiftly, "then why do you rush to defend him? Do I detect guilt in your voice, my Prince? What have you done of late to make this honored guest feel unwelcome?" Aragorn was silent, amazed at her perceptiveness. Legolas was scowling so heavily it was almost comical, and Aragorn cracked a grin at his friend. Legolas stared at him, then slowly a smile formed on his lips. "Your baiting will not work on me," he replied quietly. "Valar, and I was so close." She replied, sounding amused. 

"Lady, you are distracting me from my purpose," Legolas said determinedly. The sun was full in the sky now, casting his golden locks into an angelic yellow hue. Aragorn's face looked amused, and his eyes were curious as they stared into the persistent darkness of the cell. 

"Yes, yes; what is this purpose of yours that I suppose was so important it roused the Prince from his bed of silk and clouds?" 

Aragorn chuckled. "Bitter, aren't we?" 

Seasa almost smiled. "You would be too if you spent the night with spiders as your companions." 

"My purpose," Legolas stressed, "is to know your mind. If I could persuade my father to exchange your death sentence for a lifetime of servitude connected to the palace, what say you?" 

There was dead silence. 

The moments ticked past and footsteps were heard further down the corridor. Legolas sent an anxious look in their direction, then urged, "Seasa?" 

A loud, bubble of laughter was his answer. She was hysterical, laughing so hard she couldn't even form an answer. Aragorn glanced worriedly down the hallway. The Guards were coming. "Legolas, we must leave if we wish to avoid being found here." 

"Servitude!" Seasa croaked out, gasping in laughter. "Me! A servant!" and she dissolved into silvery peals of laughter as Legolas and Aragorn darted back to the light and airy rooms of the upper palace halls. And as the Guards brought Seasa food to break her fast, they all shook their heads. "She's going mad," one of the guards muttered at her hysterics. "She laughs at nothing." Astalder, who had come to check that she survived the night, shook his head. "Nay," he said slowly. "She laughs at us." 


	16. Return

Legolas hastily shook his head, in a last ditch attempt to clear his thoughts as he made his way back towards the main palace. His eyes ignored the subtle change from dungeon to palace corridor; slowly the walls he passed evened and smoothed and were brightened by colorful wall-hangings. Large windows were suddenly built around him, and below his feet the stone floor merged to marble. The passage grew wider, until they reached a thick wooden door. Leaning absentmindedly against it with his shoulder, Legolas led the way through. He had to brush a tapestry aside when the door opened into a random hallway where many of the guest rooms were housed. Most palaces had tunnels like these; hidden behind paintings or such, embedded in thick walls should the day come when there was no other way out.  
  
The elf slid the tapestry back into place, his hand lingering near the spot where the door had just been. "Valar protect us that we never need use it," he whispered to himself and Aragorn glanced up at him, but the ranger didn't speak.  
  
Today he was dressed more appropriately, at least, in comparison to the rest of the court's garb; he felt ill at ease in his courtly dress, however, and though he had just returned from a long journey, he was anxious to get back in the saddle.  
  
Anything to get her out of his head.  
  
She was still laughing, back in the darkness of her cell. As he exited the tunnel into the loftier chambers near the guest rooms, he could hear the echoes of her amusement. He shook his head again, and Aragorn at his side, glanced over. The human could almost read hear the elf's thoughts; they echoed in his own mind.

But Aragorn wouldn't speak; he wouldn't say what he was truly thinking. Legolas had already told him he did not want nor need his opinions, and Aragorn would not forget it. He knew that Legolas didn't truly mean to be rude, but he wasn't about to push it.  
  
They paused at Elrohir and Elladan's rooms. His face was carefree, but Legolas could tell that his friend's easy manner was forced. Aragorn was displeased with Legolas's attitude towards him, and the Prince couldn't blame him.  
  
Legolas glanced down at the floor, his eyes falling on his delicate leather boots. He could barely bring himself to look his friend in the eye - he was returning to his senses now, away from the stuffy air and dark confines of the dungeons. He didn't know what had caused him to act so stiffly towards his long time friend, but right now, his soul was conflicted and he could use whatever help he could get.  
  
After a long moment, he glanced up, his eyes locking onto Aragorn's silver gaze. "I'm sorry, mellon nin." He said softly. "I should not have snapped at you before. My temper.."  
  
"..got the better of you," Aragorn finished with a wry grin. He reached out and gently clapped Legolas's shoulder. "I know, my friend. Forget it. You've been exhausted of late and this whole --" he shook his head in the direction of the dungeons --" this whole bit hasn't been helping."  
  
Legolas frowned, his fair features marred. "No. It hasn't. But that is no excuse. I'm truly sorry, Aragorn, if I've made you feel unwelcome."  
  
Aragorn laughed. "I know when I am unwelcome, Legolas. I've seen resentment often enough not to confuse it with frustration. Forget it."  
  
"Are you sure? Because if --"  
  
"Forget it." Aragorn repeated firmly, and Legolas smiled. "Good. Now.." he glanced at the ornately carved doors behind which the twins of Elrond were probably waiting for the pair to break their fast. "We probably should go in."  
  
Aragorn raised a brow, his face traced with mischievousness. "Oh, let them sleep," he said generously, even though it was creeping towards late morning and the twins always awoke with the sun. Etiquette would keep them from eating until the Prince joined them, and with a chuckle, Legolas shook his head. "That's rude, Aragorn. After the reception I gave them last night, they'll never want to come to the Palace again!"  
  
Aragorn shook his head, his long midnight locks becoming more tousled then normal. "Oh, let them sleep, Legolas. They've had an exhausting journey."  
  
"So have you," the Prince pointed out wryly, "and yet you still managed to rise before the sun _and_ stalk me down. Imagine that."  
  
"Well," Aragorn said slowly. "I guess they are just not blessed with my human endurance."  
  
Legolas let out a bark of laughter; it was common knowledge that elven endurance was much more hardy and long lasting than that of humans. In addition, elves recovered from injury faster and could function on less sleep than humans.  
  
Legolas chuckled once more and glanced at the still firmly shut doors. "_Well_, if they have not heard us talking out here..."  
  
"Then they are still abed. Come, let us go for a quick walk outside. We'll return quickly."  
  
Legolas shrugged. "You are the guest."  
  
Aragorn smiled. "Indeed, I am."

* * *

The two friends slowly walked into the courtyard, the late morning light washing over them. It was quiet outside the main gates. Birds chirped and trees rustled, but the only other souls visible were elven guards posted at the entryway.  
  
Neither elf nor man spoke as they walked out, side by side, stopping to rest in the sun. The streaks of sunlight fell on their faces, illuminating Legolas's blonde hair. Several scars on Aragorn's face shined silver white when the light struck them.  
  
Legolas's eyes registered the mass of green the palace overlooked, the sounds of the giggling river nearby and sighed. Some of the tension in his proud shoulders eased and he could feel his muscles physically relaxing.  
  
It was good to be home, even if he did have to put away his bow and arrow for a little while. The air was free here; lighter almost, as if cheered by the happy elves dwelling around it. The shadows held less weight and laughter came easier somehow.  
  
Finally, Legolas spoke into the silence that was broken only by the occasional footfall and brush of wind rustling through the trees.  
  
"Well?"  
  
Aragorn chuckled. "I see what you mean," he allowed. "She is quite an intriguing character."  
  
Legolas exhaled through pursed lips. "And you see how wrong it would be to destroy her."  
  
Aragorn didn't answer the statement meant as a question; instead, he said. "She is very clever; quick witted, and beautiful. But she is an elf, Legolas. That is to be expected."  
  
"That doesn't mean it should be taken for granted." Legolas responded sharply and Aragorn merely stared at him. Legolas made a conscious effort to soften his tone.  
  
"I just mean that simply because she is an elf doesn't mean she is guaranteed to be a clever, beautiful creature. Look at what she has for a father. Clever, he may yet be, but mad and deranged as well."  
  
"Deranged, but did he start out that way? Or did imprisonment turn him so?" When Legolas didn't answer, Aragorn pressed, "or is that not what the legend says?"  
  
"No," Legolas said sinking to his feet as he sat at the foot of a tree. "I don't know what he was like when he was younger...innocent. I'd bet he doesn't even remember anymore," he added bitterly.  
  
"Probably not," Aragorn agreed with a sigh, falling down next to Legolas.  
  
"I cannot believe she will simply forsake life to escape punishment," the Prince said, almost wonderingly.  
  
"Why are you so surprised?" Aragorn cocked a brow, sending his friend an inquisitive glance.  
  
"She saved me, Aragorn, as well as almost half of the guard. She didn't have to do that."  
  
"Maybe she was saving herself as well. What do you think would have happened to her if the orcs found her alive and all of you dead -- if she even made it out of the fray alive?"  
  
Legolas considered that, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, inhaling the comforting smell of the forest. "She is one of them," he said softly. "Her life is bound to them. She would just have had to prove it."  
  
"How?" Aragorn challenged. "What can you say to get through to an orc? Anyway, she doesn't speak the Black Tongue, does she? And I doubt the orcs remember elvish."  
  
"She would have had to show them her necklace," Legolas murmured, his hand unconsciously straying to his pocket to grip the tiny charm.  
  
"But you had it. You would have to be--"  
  
"Dead," Legolas finished grimly. "All she needed to do, Aragorn, was wait for me to fall, then take the charm off me."  
  
"But she didn't know you had it, Legolas! Think. Did she sound the alarm before or after she saw the necklace?"  
  
Legolas said nothing.  
  
That had not occurred to him.  
  
"Legolas, I know you'd like to think she was suddenly swept up in a wave of righteousness, but it is more likely she was protecting herself."  
  
The prince shook his head, his eyes glued to a white moth that fluttered around his head. It landed on his shoulder and Legolas held out his hand to it, thinking.  
  
"Nay, Aragorn.." he said slowly. "She could have simply hidden until they were gone. Or she could have willingly been taken captive, and they would have brought her back to Dol Guldur. Or better yet, to Valneuma. She would have only had to mention the village and I'm sure Sauron would instruct the orcs to take her back."  
  
"Sauron is not one for mercy," Aragorn said flatly. "If she hadn't successfully infiltrated your palace, if you had caught her, she was better off dead to Sauron. She must know this."  
  
Legolas sighed. "I don't think she thought that far." He paused. "She never expected to fail."  
  
Aragorn leaned his head back. "There is something I don't understand," he said after a moment. "What is all this nonsense about this necklace? Why is it so important?"  
  
Legolas let out a long breath, and his eyes clouded a little as he remembered. "It's a long story," he warned but Aragorn nodded, glancing around at the empty courtyard. "I've nowhere else to go," he said and Legolas took it as a prompt.  
  
"Years ago, when Father and I first heard rumors of a strange elf that was allying himself with Sauron, against his kin, no one believed it. How absurd, how simply absurd. Dozens fled from the village, rushing towards the palace, begging my father to do something, ianything/i before it was too late."  
  
Aragorn listened intently. He had never heard this before.  
  
"Most thought my father did nothing. They thought he disregarded the rumors as just that, rumors, and focused instead on building up the Guard, which then was weak. It hasn't always been the regimented system it is today. Today, there are about two hundred members of the guard. They rotate, who is on active duty and who is not, and sometimes I will personally command some off duty members on some expedition or other. But several years ago, it was not like that. It was only twenty elves or so; I forget. They weren't used so much as for protection, as for secret missions. So my father sent five of his favorite members, the most skilled and elite of them all. Sindatil's father was one. Astalder's uncle was another; I forget the other three. With them, my father enclosed a peace offering, of sorts, to show he meant no ill will. A necklace, nothing ornate or very delicate...just a simple star on an emerald ribbon."  
  
"I did not see the necklace before it was sent with the missionaries, indeed I was not a part of this decision. But the Guard went, and entered the village without a problem. They told Valneuma that they were emissaries of Thranduil who had come to see that all was well, and that the necklace was to show the King's respect. Valneuma welcomed them, took them into his home and spoke to them about the village's safety, produce and other mindless things. That night there was a great feast, and all the elves of the village came to eat and be merry. The Guard subtly slipped among the elves, asking little questions, trying to get a hold on some of the rumors. But the elves were all wary to answer, or to even talk to them," Legolas inhaled, rubbing his eyes as his voice grew hoarse from the lengthy story, but he continued.  
  
" They were suspicious but said nothing. But that night, when the Guard was settling down to sleep, one of the guards decided to remain on watch. And it was lucky he did, for when the rest of the Guard settled down to dream, Valneuma slipped into the room. The Guard saw him take the necklace Thranduil offered, slip it into his pocket, and then the next thing he saw the gleam of a dagger being hurtled towards himself. He sounded the alarm, naturally, and they fled. That was when Valneuma began openly showing his support for Sauron, and closed off the village to visitors. No one was allowed in or out. And it remains that way to spite and mock Thranduil; Valneuma renamed the village Single Star village and made a single star its symbol."  
  
Aragorn nodded thoughtfully. "And Valneuma gave the necklace to Seasa."  
  
Legolas sighed. "Yes. So it seems. I didn't realize what it was at first, but I know the story -- most elves do. It clicked after a while, and I was so furious that I let her know I knew exactly who she was. She could only be his heir if she was wearing the necklace."  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "The whole ordeal is tragic," he said quietly. "An elf so tortured, so bitter that he will use his position as a playing card to maneuver—"  
  
Legolas's head snapped around, and he raised a hand to cut off Aragorn. "Do you hear that?" he asked, his head cocked slightly, his eyes narrowed in the distance.  
  
Elves have superior hearing to humans and Aragorn stared blankly. "I hear nothing," he whispered, but Legolas slowly eased to his feet and Aragorn mimicked him.  
  
The guards, too, had heard something; they were conversing in low tones, their eyes trained in the distance, their hands resting on their bows.  
  
Legolas approached them, all fair elven heads turned in the same direction, looking into the forest. Aragorn followed cautiously behind.  
  
"What is it?" He whispered after a moment, when no one spoke, trying not to feel like a fool.  
  
Legolas sighed and squinted into the distance. "Two horses. Maybe three. Elves, I think. Maybe men."  
  
"A representative from Valneuma?" One of the guards suggested. "Pleading for his daughter's life?"  
  
Legolas sent him a very sharp look. "Hold your tongue on the case of Valneuma's daughter. You do not know enough to have your tongue flap like the evening breeze. Next time I catch you rambling—"  
  
"What the Prince means," Aragorn interrupted smoothly, "was that the palace guards should concern themselves only with guarding the palace, not the issues of the king."  
  
The guard shrugged. "My apologies Sire. As you wish."  
  
"Ai!" the other guard exclaimed suddenly, rushing towards the gates. "Ai, Captain!"  
  
Legolas's head swung around, his eyes registering the elven horses and figures approaching the palace. He took the scene in with a glance, the color in his already pale face fleeing. He turned to the other guard, barking, "Quick! Run for the healers. Alert my father!"  
  
He started towards the company and Aragorn grabbed his arm. "Wait, what is happening?"  
  
Legolas shared a grim look with his human friend as they jogged towards the horses entering the courtyard. The elves were clearly distinguishable now, and there was no mistaking who the riders were. "Sindatil has returned."  
  
Aragorn raised a brow at the three lone figures. "Why is he returning with only two elves? I thought you said he left with a small group."  
  
Legolas frowned. "He did." 


End file.
